allop 
2 


s 


avid  Gray 


Gallops 

2 


HERE  is  LADY  GAY,' SHE  SAID." 


Gallops 
2 

by 

David  Gray 


New  York 

The  Century  Co. 

1903 


Copyright,  1900,  1902,  1903,  by  THE  CENTURY  Co. 
Copyright,  1901,  by  THE  S.  S.  McCLURE  Co. 

Published  October,  1903 


THE  DEVINNE  PRES8 


TO 
M.  G.  V.  R. 

WHO,  AT  THE  LAST  DAY,  MUST 
SHARE  THE  RESPONSIBILITY 
FOR  " GALLOPS " 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I.  HER  FIRST  HORSE  SHOW      ...  3 

II.  ISABELLA 43 

III.  CROWNINSHIELD'S  BRUSH       ...  83 

IV.  TlNG-A-LING 103 

V.  THE  BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER  .  135 

VI.  THE  ECHO  HUNT       ....  175 

VII.  THE  REGGIE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY 

LIFE    ......  215 


Gallops 

2 


Gallops 

2 
i 

HER   FIRST   HORSE   SHOW 

SHE  folded  the  program  carefully  for 
preservation  in  her  memory-book,  and 
devoured  the  scene  with  her  eyes.  It 
was  hard  to  believe,  but  unquestionably 
Angelica  Stanton,  in  the  flesh,  was  in 
Madison  Square  Garden  at  the  horse 
show.  The  great  arena  was  crowded ; 
the  band  was  playing,  and  a  four-in-hand 
was  swinging  around  the  tan-bark  ring. 

What  had  been  her  dream  since  she 
put  away  her  dolls  and  the  flea-bitten 
pony  was  realized.  The  pony  had  been 
succeeded  by  Lady  Washington,  and  with 
Lady  Washington  opened  the  epoch  when 
she  began  to  hunt  with  the  grown-up 
3 


.fc>\^:  GALLOPS    2 

people  and  to  reflect  upon  the  outside 
world.  From  what  she  had  gathered  from 
the  men  in  the  hunting-field,  the  outside 
world  seemed  to  center  in  the  great  horse 
show,  and  most  of  what  was  interesting 
and  delightful  in  life  took  place  there. 

Besides  the  obvious  profit  of  witnessing 
this  institution,  there  had  arisen,  later  on, 
more  serious  considerations  which  led  An 
gelica  to  take  an  interest  in  it.  Since  the 
disappearance  of  Lady  Washington  and 
the  failure  to  trace  her,  Angelica's  hope 
was  in  the  show. 

One  of  the  judges  who  had  visited  Jim 
had  unwittingly  laid  the  bases  of  this 
hope.  "All  the  best  performers  in  Amer 
ica  are  exhibited  there,"  he  had  said  in  the 
course  of  an  interminable  discussion  upon 
the  great  subject.  And  was  not  Lady 
Washington  probably  the  best?  Clearly, 
therefore,  soon  or  late  Lady  Washington 
would  be  found  winning  blue  ribbons  at 
Madison  Square  Garden. 

To  this  cheering  conclusion  the  doubt 
ing  Thomas  within  her  replied  that  so 
desirable  a  miracle  could  never  be;  and 


HER  FIRST  HORSE  SHOW  5 

she  cherished  the  doubt,  though  rather  to 
provoke  contrary  fate  into  refuting  it  than 
because  it  embodied  her  convictions.  She 
knew  that  some  day  Lady  Washington 
must  come  back. 

After  Jim  had  sold  Lady  Washington, 
he  had  been  informed  by  Chloe,  the  par 
lor-maid,  how  Angelica  felt,  and  he  re 
pented  his  act.  He  had  tried  to  buy  the 
mare  back,  but  the  man  to  whom  he  had 
sold  her  had  sold  her  to  a  dealer,  and  he 
had  sold  her  to  somebody  who  had  gone 
abroad,  and  no  one  knew  what  this  person 
had  done  with  her.  So  Lady  Washington 
had  disappeared,  and  Angelica  mourned 
for  her.  Two  years  passed,  two  years 
that  were  filled  with  doubt  and  disappoint 
ment.  Each  autumn  Jim  went  North 
with  his  horses,  but  never  suggested  tak 
ing  Angelica.  As  for  Angelica,  the  sub 
ject  was  too  near  her  heart  for  her  to 
broach  it.  Thus  it  seemed  that  life  was 
slipping  away,  harshly  withholding  oppor 
tunity. 

That  November,  for  reasons  of  his  own, 
Jim  decided  to  take  Angelica  along  with 


6  GALLOPS    2 

him.  When  he  told  her  of  his  intention, 
she  gasped,  but  made  no  demonstration. 
On  the  threshold  of  fulfilling  her  hope  she 
was  afraid  to  exult :  she  knew  how  things 
are  snatched  away  the  moment  one  begins 
to  count  upon  them;  but  inwardly  she 
was  happy  to  the  point  of  apprehension. 
On  the  trip  North  she  "  knocked  wood  " 
scrupulously  every  time  she  was  lured 
into  a  day-dream  which  pictured  the  find 
ing  of  Lady  Washington,  and  thus  she 
gave  the  evil  forces  of  destiny  no  opening. 

The  first  hour  of  the  show  overwhelmed 
her.  It  was  too  splendid  and  mystifying 
to  be  comprehended  immediately,  or  to 
permit  a  divided  attention.  Even  Lady 
Washington  dropped  out  of  her  thoughts, 
but  only  until  the  jumping  classes  began. 
The  first  hunter  that  trotted  across  the 
tan-bark  brought  her  back  to  her  quest. 

But  after  two  days  the  mystery  was  no 
more  a  mystery,  and  the  splendor  had 
faded  out.  The  joy  of  it  had  faded  out, 
too.  For  two  days  she  had  pored  over 
the  entry-lists  and  had  studied  every 
horse  that  entered  the  ring;  but  the 


HER  FIRST  HORSE  SHOW  7 

search  for  Lady  Washington  had  been  a 
vain  one.  Furthermore,  all  the  best 
horses  by  this  time  had  appeared  in  some 
class,  and  the  chances  of  Lady  Washing 
ton  turning  up  seemed  infinitesimal.  Re 
luctantly  she  gave  up  hope.  She  explained 
it  to  herself  that  probably  there  had  been 
a  moment  of  vainglorious  pride  when  she 
had  neglected  to  "knock  wood."  She 
would  have  liked  to  discuss  it  with  some 
body  ;  but  Chloe  and  her  colored  mammy, 
who  understood  such  matters,  were  at  the 
"  Pines "  in  Virginia,  and  Jim  would 
probably  laugh  at  her ;  so  she  maintained 
silence  and  kept  her  despair  to  herself. 

It  was  the  evening  of  the  third  day,  and 
she  was  at  the  show  again,  dressed  in  her 
habit,  because  she  was  going  to  ride. 
Her  brother  was  at  the  other  end  of  the 
Garden,  hidden  by  a  row  of  horses.  He 
was  waiting  to  show  in  a  class  of  park 
hacks.  There  was  nothing  in  it  that 
looked  like  Lady  Washington,  and  she 
turned  her  eyes  away  from  the  ring  with 
a  heavy  heart.  The  band  had  stopped 
playing,  and  there  was  no  one  to  talk  to 


8  GALLOPS    2 

but  her  aunt's  maid,  and  this  maid  was 
not  companionable.  She  fell  to  watching 
the  people  in  the  boxes ;  she  wished  that 
she  knew  some  of  them.  There  was  a 
box  just  below  her  which  looked  attrac 
tive.  There  were  two  pretty  women  in 
it,  and  some  men  who  looked  as  if  they 
were  nice  ;  they  were  laughing  and  seemed 
to  be  having  a  good  time.  She  wished 
she  was  with  them,  or  home,  or  anywhere 
else  than  where  she  was. 

Presently  the  music  struck  up  again; 
the  hum  of  the  innumerable  voices  took  a 
higher  pitch.  The  ceaseless  current  of 
promenaders  staring  and  bowing  at  the 
boxes  went  slowly  around  and  around. 
Nobody  paid  any  attention  to  the  horses, 
but  all  jostled  and  chattered  and  craned 
their  necks  to  see  the  people.  When  her 
brother's  Redgauntlet  took  the  blue  ribbon 
in  the  heavy-weight  green-hunter  class,  not 
a  person  in  the  whole  Garden  applauded 
except  herself.  She  heard  a  man  ask, 
"  What  took  the  blue  ?  "  And  she  heard 
his  friend  answer,  "  Southern  horse,  I  be 
lieve;  don't  know  the  owner."  They 


HER  FIRST  HORSE  SHOW  9 

did  n't  even  know  Jim !  She  would  have 
left  the  place  and  gone  back  to  her  aunt's 
for  a  comfortable  cry,  but  she  was  going 
to  ride  Hilda  in  the  ladies'  saddle  class, 
which  came  toward  the  end  of  the  evening. 

The  next  thing  on  the  program  were 
some  qualified  hunters  which  might  be 
expected  to  show  some  good  jumping. 
This  was  something  to  be  thankful  for, 
and  she  turned  her  attention  to  the  ring. 

"  I  think  I  '11  go  down  on  the  floor," 
she  said  to  the  maid.  "  I  'm  tired  of 
sitting  still." 

In  theory  Miss  Angelica  Stanton  was 
at  the  horse  show  escorted  by  her  bro 
ther;  but  in  fact  she  was  in  the  cus 
tody  of  Caroline,  the  maid  of  her  aunt 
Henrietta  Gushing,  who  lived  in  Washing^ 
ton  Square.  Miss  Gushing  was  elderly, 
and  she  disapproved  of  the  horse  show 
because  her  father  had  been  a  charter 
member  of  the  Society  for  the  Prevention 
of  Cruelty  to  Animals,  and  because  to  go 
to  it  in  the  afternoon  interfered  with  her 
drive  and  with  her  tea,  while  to  go  to  it  in 
the  evening  interfered  with  her  whist,  and 


io  GALLOPS    2 

that  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  Conse 
quently,  when  Angelica  arrived,  the  horse 
show  devolved  upon  Caroline,  who  ac 
cepted  the  situation  not  altogether  with 
resignation.  She  had  done.  Miss  Cush- 
ing's  curls  for  twenty  years,  and  had  ab 
sorbed  her  views. 

Angelica  would  have  preferred  stop 
ping  at  the  hotel  with  Jim ;  but  that,  he 
said,  was  out  of  the  question.  Jim  ad 
mitted  that  Aunt  Henrietta  was  never  in 
tentionally  entertaining,  but  he  said  that 
Angelica  needed  her  womanly  influence. 
Jim  had  brought  up  Angelica,  and  the 
problem  sometimes  seemed  a  serious  one. 
She  was  now  sixteen,  and  he  was  satisfied 
that  she  was  going  to  be  a  horsewoman, 
but  at  times  he  doubted  whether  his  train 
ing  was  adequate  in  other  respects,  and 
that  was  why  he  had  brought  her  to  the 
horse  show  and  had  incarcerated  her  at 
Aunt  Henrietta's. 

The  girl  led  Caroline  through  the 
crowd,  and  took  a  position  at  the  end, 
between  the  first  and  last  jumps.  As  the 
horses  were  shown,  they  went  round  the 


HER  FIRST  HORSE  SHOW  11 

ring,  came  back,  and  finished  in  front  of 
them.  It  was  the  best  place  from  which 
to  watch,  if  one  wished  to  see  the  jumping. 

Angelica  admitted  to  herself  that  some 
of  the  men  rode  pretty  well,  but  not  as 
well  as  some  of  the  men  rode  at  their  out- 
of-door  shows  at  home ;  and  the  tan-bark 
was  not  as  good  as  turf.  It  was  a  large 
class,  and  after  eight  or  ten  had  been 
shown,  a  striking-looking  black  mare  came 
out  of  the  line  and  started  plunging  and 
rearing  toward  the  first  jump.  Her  rider 
faced  her  at  the  bars,  and  she  minced 
reluctantly  forward.  Just  before  they 
reached  the  wings  the  man  struck  her. 
She  stopped  short  and  whirled  back  into 
the  ring. 

From  the  time  the  black  mare  appeared 
Angelica's  heart  almost  stopped  beating. 
"I  'm  sure  of  it,  I  'm  sure  of  it!"  she 
gasped.  "  Three  white  feet  and  the  star. 
Caroline,"  she  said,  "  that  's  Lady  Wash 
ington.  He  ought  n't  to  strike  her.  He 
must  n't!  " 

"  Hush,  miss,"  said  Caroline.  "  We  '11 
be  conspicuous." 


12  GALLOPS    2 

The  man  was  bringing  the  mare  back 
toward  the  jump.  As  before,  he  used  his 
whip,  intending  to  drive  her  into  the 
wings,  and,  as  before,  she  stopped,  reared 
angrily,  wheeled  about,  and  came  back 
plunging.  The  man  quieted  her  after  a 
little,  and  turned  her  again  toward  the 
hurdle.  It  was  his  last  chance.  She 
came  up  sulkily,  tossing  her  head  and 
edging  away  from  the  bars.  As  he  got 
near  the  wings  he  raised  his  whip  again. 

Then  the  people  in  that  part  of  the 
Garden  heard  a  girl's  shrill,  excited  voice 
cry  out :  "  You  must  n't  hit  her !  Steady, 
Lady  Washington !  Drop  your  curb !  " 

The  black  mare's  ears  went  forward  at 
the  sound  of  the  voice.  The  young  man 
on  her  back  put  down  his  uplifted  whip 
and  loosened  the  rein  on  the  bit.  He 
glanced  around  with  an  embarrassed  smile, 
and  the  next  instant  he  was  over  the  jump, 
and  the  mare  was  galloping  for  the  hurdle 
beyond. 

Suddenly  Angelica  became  conscious 
that  several  thousand  people  were  staring 
at  her  with  looks  of  wonder  and  amuse- 


HER  FIRST  HORSE  SHOW  13 

ment.  Caroline  clutched  her  arm  and 
dragged  her  away  from  the  rail.  The 
girl  colored,  and  shook  herself  free. 

"  I  don't  care,"  she  said.  "  He  should 
n't  have  hit  her.  She  can  jump  anything 
if  she  's  ridden  right.  I  knew  we  'd  find 
her,"  she  muttered  excitedly.  "  I  knew  it ! " 

Caroline  struggled  desperately  through 
the  crowd  with  her  charge. 

"Whatever  will  Miss  Cushing  say!" 
she  gasped. 

Angelica  forgot  the  crowd.  "  I  don't 
care,"  she  said.  "  If  Aunt  Henrietta  had 
ever  owned  Lady  Washington  she  'd  have 
done  the  same  thing.  And  if  you  tell 
her  I  '11  pay  you  back.  She  '11  know  that 
you  let  me  leave  my  seat,  and  she  told 
you  not  to."  This  silenced  Caroline. 

"There!  He  's  fussed  her  mouth 
again,"  she  went  on.  The  black  mare 
had  refused,  and  was  rearing  at  the  jump 
next  the  last.  The  girl  stood  on  tiptoe 
and  watched  impatiently  for  a  moment. 

"  There  she  goes,"  she  murmured,  with 
a  sigh.  The  judges  had  ordered  the 
horse  out. 


14  GALLOPS    2 

Angelica  tagged  along  disconsolately 
through  the  crowd  till  a  conversation  be 
tween  two  men  who  were  leaning  against 
the  rail  caught  her  ear. 

"  I  wonder  who  that  little  girl  was," 
said  one.  "  The  mare  seemed  to  know 
her  voice,  but  Reggie  does  n't  call  her 
Lady  Washington." 

"  No— Hermione,"  said  the  other.  "  He 
may  have  changed  it,  though,"  he  added. 
"  He  gives  them  all  names  beginning  with 
H." 

"  You  '11  have  an  easy  time  beating  him 
in  the  five-foot-six  jumps,"  said  the  first 
man.  "  It  's  a  good  mare,  but  he  can't 
ride  her." 

Angelica  wondered  who  they  were,  but 
they  turned  around  just  then,  and  she 
dropped  her  eyes  and  hurried  after  Caro 
line. 

As  they  made  their  way  through  the 
crowd,  a  nudge  from  the  maid  took  her 
thoughts  from  Lady  Washington.  She 
had  been  wondering  how  she  would  find 
the  young  man  who  had  ridden  her.  She 
looked  up  and  saw  that  a  man  was  bowing 


HER  FIRST  HORSE  SHOW  15 

to  her.  It  was  Mr.  "  Billy  "  Livingstone. 
Mr.  Livingstone  was  nearly  sixty,  but  he 
had  certain  qualities  of  permanent  youth 
which  made  him  "  Billy  "  to  three  genera 
tions. 

"Hello,  Angelica!"  he  exclaimed. 
"When  did  you  turn  up?  How  you  've 
grown!  " 

"I  came  up  North  with  Jim,"  she  re 
plied. 

"  You  should  have  let  me  know,"  he 
said.  "  You  know  Jim  never  writes  any 
one.  This  is  the  first  time  I  Ve  been 
here.  I  'm  just  back  from  the  country. 
Where  's  your  box— that  is,  who  are  you 
with?" 

"  I  'm  here  with  my  maid,"  said  An 
gelica,  with  a  somewhat  conscious  dignity. 
"  Jim  is  with  the  horses." 

Livingstone  looked  from  the  slender 
girl  to  the  substantial  Caroline,  and  the 
corners  of  his  mouth  twitched. 

"  I  prefer  to  be  alone  this  way,"  she 
explained.  "  It  's  more  independent." 

Mr.  Livingstone  thought  a  moment. 
"  Of  course  that  's  so,"  he  said.  "  But  I 


16  GALLOPS    2 

think  I  Ve  got  a  better  plan;  let  's  hunt 
up  Mrs.  Dicky  Everett." 

"  Is  she  an  old  woman?  "  asked  Angel 
ica. 

"  Not  so  terribly  old,"  said  Mr.  Living 
stone.  "  I  suppose  you  'd  call  her 
middle-aged." 

"Thirty?"  asked  Angelica. 

"  Near  it,  I  'm  afraid,"  he  answered. 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  Angelica. 
"That  's  pretty  old.  She  won't  have 
anything  to  say  to  me." 

"  She  knows  something  about  a  horse," 
said  Livingstone,  "  though,  of  course,  she 
can't  ride  the  way  you  do.  If  you  find 
her  stupid,  I  '11  take  you  away;  but  I 
want  you  to  come  because  she  will  be 
very  nice  to  me  for  bringing  you." 

He  turned  to  Caroline.  "  I  'm  a  friend 
of  Miss  Stanton's  brother.  Go  to  your 
seat,  and  I  '11  bring  Miss  Stanton  back  to 
you." 

Then  he  led  the  way  up  the  stairs,  and 
Angelica  followed,  wondering  what  sort 
of  person  Mrs.  "  Dicky  "  Everett  might  be. 

She  cheered  herself  with  the  thought 


HER  FIRST   HORSE   SHOW  17 

that  she  could  not  be  any  older  or  more 
depressing  than  Aunt  Henrietta,  and  if 
she  was  fond  of  horses  she  might  know 
who  owned  Lady  Washington. 

Livingstone  consulted  his  program. 
"  It  's  down  on  this  side,"  he  said.  She 
followed  him  mechanically,  with  her  eyes 
wandering  toward  the  ring,  till  presently 
they  stopped. 

"  Hello!  "  she  heard  them  call  to  Liv 
ingstone,  as  he  stepped  in  ahead  of  her, 
and  the  next  moment  she  realized  that 
she  was  in  the  very  box  which  she  had 
watched  from  her  seat  among  the  chairs. 

"  I  want  to  present  you  to  my  friend 
Miss  Stanton,"  Livingstone  said.  He  re 
peated  the  names,  but  they  made  no 
impression  upon  her,  because  there,  stand 
ing  in  front  of  her,  was  the  young  man 
who  had  ridden  Lady  Washington. 

"  You  seem  to  know  each  other,"  said 
Livingstone.  "  Am  I  wasting  my  breath  ? 
Is  this  a  joke  ?  " 

He    looked    at    Angelica.       She    was 
speechless  with  mixed  joy  and  embarrass 
ment. 
2 


iS  GALLOPS    2 

"  Come  here,  my  dear,'*  said  one  of  the 
two  pretty  women,  "  and  sit  down  beside 
me.  Miss  Stanton,"  she  went  on  to 
Livingstone,  "  very  kindly  tried  to  teach 
Reggie  how  to  ride  Hermione,  and  we  are 
glad  to  have  the  chance  to  thank  her." 

"  I  don't  understand  at  all,"  said  Liv 
ingstone.  "  But  there  are  so  many  things 
that  I  shall  never  understand  that  one 
more  makes  no  difference." 

Angelica's  self-confidence  began  to  come 
back. 

"Why,  he  was  riding  Lady  Washing 
ton  with  a  whip,"  she  explained.  "  And 
I  just  called  out  to  him  not  to.  You 
remember  Lady  Washington, — she  was  a 
four-year-old  when  you  were  at  the  Pines, 
— and  you  know  you  never  could  touch 
her  with  a  whip." 

"  I  remember  very  well,"  said  Living 
stone.  "  You  flattered  me  by  offering  to 
let  me  ride  her,  an  offer  which,  I  think,  I 
declined.  When  did  you  sell  her?  " 

"  Two  years  ago,"  said  Angelica. 

Then  the  other  young  woman  spoke. 
"  But  how  did  you  recognize  the  horse?" 


HER  FIRST  HORSE  SHOW  19 

she  asked.  "  You  have  n't  seen  it  for 
two  years." 

"Recognize  her!"  exclaimed  Angelica. 
"  I  guess  if  you  had  ever  owned  Lady 
Washington  you  would  have  recognized 
her.  I  broke  her  as  a  two-year-old,  and 
schooled  her  myself.  Jim  says  she  's  the 
best  mare  we  ever  had."  Angelica  looked 
at  the  woman  pityingly.  She  was  sweet- 
looking  and  had  beautiful  clothes,  but  she 
was  evidently  a  goose. 

"  Miss  Stanton  won  the  high  jump  with 
the  mare,"  Livingstone  remarked,  "  at 
their  hunt  show  down  in  Virginia." 

"  It  was  only  six  feet,"  said  the  girl, 
"  but  she  can  do  better  than  that.  Jim 
would  n't  let  me  ride  her  at  anything 
bigger." 

"  I  should  hope  not,"  said  the  lady  by 
whose  side  she  was  sitting.  Then  she 
asked  suddenly,  "You  are  not  Jimmie 
Stanton's  sister?" 

"Yes,"  said  Angelica. 

"  I  'd  like  to  know  why  he  has  n't 
brought  you  to  see  me!" 

"  He  's  awfully  busy  with  the  horses," 


20  GALLOPS    2 

the  girl  replied.  "  He  has  to  stop  at  the 
Waldorf  and  see  about  the  show  with  the 
men,  and  he  makes  me  stay  with  Aunt 
Henrietta  Gushing."  She  stopped  ab 
ruptly.  She  was  afraid  that  what  she  had 
said  might  sound  disloyal.  "  I  like  to  stop 
with  Aunt  Henrietta,"  she  added  solemnly. 
"  Besides,  I  've  been  busy  looking  for 
Lady  Washington.'1 

The  young  man  whom  they  called 
Reggie,  together  with  Mr.  Livingstone 
and  the  lady  beside  Angelica,  laughed 
openly  at  this  allusion  to  Miss  Gushing. 

"Do  you  know  her?"  asked  Angelica. 

"  Oh,  everybody  knows  your  Aunt 
Henrietta,"  said  the  lady. 

"  And  loves  her,"  added  Livingstone, 
solemnly. 

The  lady  laughed  a  little.  "  You  see, 
she  's  connected  with  nearly  everybody. 
She  's  a  sort  of  connection  of  Reggie's 
and  mine,  so  I  suppose  we  're  sort  of 
cousins  of  yours.  I  hope  you  will  like 
us." 

"  I  don't  know  much  about  my  rela 
tions  on  my  mother's  side,"  Angelica 


HER  FIRST  HORSE  SHOW  21 

observed.  The  distinction  between  con 
nections  and  relatives  had  never  been 
impressed  upon  her.  She  was  about  to 
add  that  Jim  said  that  his  New  York 
relatives  tired  him,  but  caught  herself. 
She  paused  uneasily. 

"  Please  excuse  me,"  she  said,  "  but  I 
did  n't  hear  Mr.  Livingstone  introduce  me 
to  you." 

"  Why,"  said  Livingstone,  who  over 
heard,  "  this  is  Mrs.  Everett.  I  told  you 
we  were  coming  into  her  box." 

"  I  thought  she  must  have  stepped  out," 
said  Angelica.  "You  told  me  she  was 
middle-aged." 

A  peal  of  laughter  followed. 

"Angelica !  Angelica ! "  Livingstone  ex 
claimed. 

"But  you  did,"  said  Angelica.  "I 
asked  you  if  she  was  an  old  lady,  and  you 
said,  '  Not  so  terribly  old — middle-aged/ 
And  she  's  not;  she  's  young." 

"  Things  can  never  be  as  they  were  be 
fore,"  said  Livingstone,  mournfully,  as  the 
laughter  died  away. 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Everett. 


22  GALLOPS    2 

There  was  a  pause,  and  one  of  the  men 
turned  to  Reggie.  "  What  are  you  going 
to  do  about  the  five-foot-six  jumps?" 

"  Let  it  go,"  said  Reggie. 

"  It  's  a  pity,"  said  the  other.  "  If  you 
had  met  Miss  Stanton  earlier  in  the  even 
ing,  I  think  she  could  have  taught  you 
to  ride  that  mare.  I  wanted  to  see  you 
win  your  bet." 

"Bet?"  said  Livingstone. 

"  Reggie  's  such  an  idiot,"  said  Mrs. 
Everett.  "  He  bet  Tommy  Post  that 
Hermione  would  beat  his  chestnut  in  the 
five-foot-six  jumps,  and  Reggie  can't  make 
Hermione  jump  at  all,  so  he  's  lost." 

"Not  yet;  I  've  got  a  chance,"  said 
Reggie,  good-naturedly.  "  Perhaps  I  '11 
go  in,  after  all."  The  other  men  laughed. 

"  I  should  think  you  had  made  monkey 
enough  of  yourself  for  one  evening,"  ob 
served  Palfrey,  who  was  his  best  friend 
and  could  say  such  things. 

"  Five  feet  six  would  be  easy  for  Lady 
Washington,"  said  Angelica.  "  I  can't 
get  used  to  calling  her  by  that  new  name." 
She  hesitated  a  moment  with  embarrass- 


HER  FIRST  HORSE  SHOW  23 

ment,  and  then  she  stammered :  "  Why 
don't  you  let  me  ride  her?  " 

The  people  in  the  box  looked  aghast. 

"  I  'm  afraid  it  would  n't  do,"  said 
Reggie,  seriously.  "  It  's  awfully  good 
of  you,  but,  you  see,  it  would  n't  look 
well  to  put  a  lady  on  that  horse.  Suppose 
something  should  happen?" 

"Good  of  me!"  the  girl  exclaimed. 
"  I  'd  love  it !  I  want  to  ride  her  again 
so  much!" 

"  Well,"  said  Reggie,  "  I  'II  have  her  at 
the  park  for  you  to-morrow  morning. 
You  can  ride  her  whenever  you  like." 

A  low  cry  of  alarm  ran  through  the 
Garden,  and  the  conversation  in  the 
box  hushed.  A  tandem  cart  had  tipped 
over,  and  the  wheeler  was  kicking  it  to 
pieces. 

"  I  don't  like  that  sort  of  thing,"  said 
Mrs.  Everett,  with  a  shudder. 

They  finally  righted  the  trap,  and  the 
driver  limped  off  to  show  that  he  was  not 
hurt.  The  great  crowd  seemed  to  draw 
a  long  breath  of  relief,  and  the  even  hum 
of  voices  went  on  again.  The  judges 


24  GALLOPS    2 

began  to  award  the  ribbons,  and  Angelica 
looked  down  at  her  program. 

"Dear  me!"  she  exclaimed.  "The 
saddle  class  I  'm  going  to  ride  in  is  next. 
I  'm  afraid  I  '11  be  late.  Good-by." 

"  Good-by,"  they  all  replied. 

"  Don't  you  come,"  she  said  to  Living 
stone.  "  It  's  just  a  step." 

"  I  must  keep  my  word  with  Caroline," 
he  answered,  and  he  took  her  to  her 
seat. 

"She  's  immense,  is  n't  she?"  he  said, 
as  he  came  back.  "  I  'm  glad  Reggie 
did  n't  let  her  ride  that  brute.  She  will 
be  killed  one  of  these  days." 

"  She  's  going  to  be  a  great  beauty," 
said  Mrs.  Everett. 

"She  looks  like  her  blessed  mother," 
said  Livingstone.  "  I  was  very  fond  of  her 
mother.  I  think  that  if  it  had  n't  been 
for  Stanton— " 

"  Stop  ! "  interrupted  Mrs.  Everett. 
"Your  heart-tragedies  are  too  numerous. 
Besides,  if  you  had  married  her  you 
would  n't  be  here  trying  to  tell  us  why 
you  did  n't."  And  they  all  laughed,  and 


HER  FIRST  HORSE  SHOW  25 

cheerfully  condemned  the  judging  of  the 
tandem  class. 


THE  negro  groom  who  had  come  up  with 
the  Stanton  horses  met  Angelica  as  she 
was  going  down-stairs  into  the  basement 
where  the  stalls  were.  Jim  had  not  ap 
peared,  so  Angelica  and  Caroline  had 
started  off  alone. 

"  Hilda  's  went  lame  behind,  Miss  An- 
gie,"  the  man  said.  "  She  must  have 
cast  huhself.  They  ain't  no  use  to  show 
huh." 

Ordinarily  this  calamity  would  have 
disturbed  Angelica,  but  the  discovery  of 
Lady  Washington  was  a  joy  which  could 
not  be  dimmed. 

"Have  you  told  my  brother?"  she 
asked. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Angie,"  said  the  man.  "  He 
was  gwine  to  tell  you." 

"  I  want  to  see  her,"  said  Angelica,  and 
they  went  on  toward  the  stall.  But  what 
Angelica  most  wanted  was  to  get  among 
the  horses  and  look  for  a  certain  black 
mare. 


26  GALLOPS    2 

Hilda  was  very  lame,  and  there  was 
fever  in  the  hock.  Angelica  patted  her 
neck,  and  turned  away  with  a  side  glance 
at  Caroline,  who,  she  feared,  would  rebel 
at  being  led  through  the  horses'  quarters. 
She  walked  down  the  row  of  stalls  till  she 
came  to  the  corner,  then  up  through  an 
other  passage  till  she  stopped  at  a  big 
box-stall  over  the  side  of  which  stretched 
a  black  head  set  on  a  long,  thoroughbred- 
looking  neck. 

The  small,  fine  ears,  the  width  between 
the  eyes,  the  square  little  muzzle,  were 
familiar;  and  there  was  a  white  star  on 
the  forehead.  But  Angelica  did  not  enu 
merate  these  things.  Horses  to  her  had 
personalities  and  faces,  just  as  people  had 
them.  She  recognized  Lady  Washington 
as  she  had  recognized  Mr.  Livingstone. 
She  made  a  little  exclamation,  and,  stand 
ing  on  tiptoe,  put  her  arms  about  the 
mare's  neck,  and  kissed  it  again  and 
again. 

"The  dear!  She  remembers  me !"  the 
girl  said,  wiping  her  eyes.  It  's  Lady 
Washington,"  she  explained  to  Caroline. 


HER  FIRST  HORSE  SHOW  ,  27 

She  reached  up  to  fondle  the  little  muzzle, 
and  the  mare  nipped  playfully. 

"  Look  out,  miss,"  called  the  stable- 
boy,  who  was  sitting  on  a  soap-box; 
"she  's  mean." 

"  She  's  no  such  thing,"  said  the  girl. 

"  Oh,  ain't  she?  "  said  the  boy. 

"  Well,  if  she  is,  you  made  her  so," 
retorted  Angelica. 

The  boy  grinned.  "  I  ain't  only  been 
in  the  stable  two  weeks,"  he  said.  "  She 
caught  me  on  the  second  day  and  nigh 
broke  me  leg.  You  see  her  act  in  the 
ring?  Mr.  Haughton  says  he  won't  ride 
her  no  more,  and  she  's  entered  in  the  rive- 
foot-six  jumps." 

The  girl  looked  thoughtfully  at  the  boy 
and  then  at  the  horse.  An  idea  had  come 
to  her.  She  was  reflecting  upon  the  last 
words  Mr.  Haughton  had  spoken  before 
she  left  the  box  :  "  You  can  ride  her  when 
ever  you  like." 

"  I  know,"  she  said  aloud.  "  I  'm  going 
to  ride  her  in  that  class.  I  'm  Miss  Stan- 
ton.  I  used  to  own  her,  you  know.  My 
saddle  is  down  there  with  Mr.  Stanton's 


28  GALLOPS    2 

horses,  and  I  want  you  to  go  and  get 
it" 

"  Oh,  never,  Miss  Angelica!"  exclaimed 
Caroline.  "  Dear  me,  not  that!" 

"  You  hush,"  said  Angelica. 

The  stable-boy  looked  at  her  incred 
ulously.  "  I  ain't  had  no  orders,  miss," 
he  said.  "  I  '11  have  to  see  William.  Did 
Mr.  Haughton  say  you  might?" 

"  Of  course  he  said  I  might,"  she  replied. 

The  boy  said  no  more  and  went  off 
after  William. 

"  Of  course  he  said  I  might,"  she  re 
peated  half  aloud.  "  Did  n't  he  say  I 
might  ride  her  '  whenever  I  wanted  to '  ? 
'  Whenever '  is  any  time,  and  I  want  to 
now."  She  fortified  herself  behind  this 
sophistry,  but  she  was  all  in  a  flutter  lest 
Jim  or  Mr.  Haughton  should  appear. 
The  thought,  however,  of  being  on  Lady 
Washington's  back,  and  showing  people 
that  she  was  n't  sulky  and  bad-tempered, 
was  a  temptation  too  strong  to  be  resisted. 

The  boy  came  back  with  the  head 
groom,  to  whom  he  had  explained  the 
matter. 


HER  FIRST  HORSE  SHOW  29 

"  Why,  miss,"  said  William,  "  she  'd  kill 
you.  I  would  n't  want  to  show  her  my 
self.  Mr.  Haughton,  miss,  must  have  been 
joking.  Honest,  miss,  you  could  n't  ride 
Hermione."  The  man  was  respectful  but 
firm. 

"  Think  what  Miss  Gushing  would  say," 
said  Caroline. 

"  But  I  tell  you  I  can,"  retorted  An 
gelica.  She  paid  no  attention  to  Caroline ; 
her  temper  flashed  up.  "  You  don't  seem 
to  understand.  I  owned  that  mare  when 
she  was  Lady  Washington,  and  broke  her 
all  myself,  and  schooled  her,  too.  Mr. 
Haughton  has  n't  any  '  hands,'  and  he 
ought  to  know  better  than  to  raise  a  whip 
on  her." 

William  grinned  at  the  unvarnished 
statement  about  his  master's  "  hands." 

"  Are  you  the  young  lady  what  called 
out  to  him  in  the  ring?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  I  am,"  said  Angelica.  "And  if 
he  'd  done  what  I  told  him  to  she  would 
have  won.  Here  's  our  Emanuel,"  she 
went  on.  "  He  '11  tell  you  I  can  ride  her. 
Emanuel,"  she  demanded,  as  the  negro 


30  GALLOPS    2 

approached,  "  have  n't  I  ridden  Lady 
Washington?" 

"  You  jest  have,  Miss  Angie,"  said 
Emanuel.  "  Why,"  said  he,  turning  to 
William,  "  this  heah  young  lady  have  rode 
that  maah  ovah  six  feet.  She  done  won 
the  high  jump  at  ouah  hunt  show.  That 's 
Lady  Washington  all  right,"  he  went  on, 
looking  at  the  head  poked  out  over  the 
stall.  "  I  got  huh  maahk  on  mah  ahm 
foh  to  remembah  huh." 

The  stable-boy  grinned. 

"Well,  she  never  bit  me,"  said  An 
gelica. 

"  The  young  lady,"  said  William,  doubt 
fully,  "  wants  to  ride  her  in  the  five-foot- 
six  class.  She  says  Mr.  Haughton  said 
she  might." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Angelica,"  interposed  Caro 
line,  "you  '11  be  kilt!" 

"  You  're  a  goose,"  said  Angelica.  "  I  've 
ridden  her  hundreds  of  times." 

"  I  don't  know  how  Mistah  Jim  would 
like  it,"  said  Emanuel;  "but  she  could 
ride  that  maah  all  right,  you  jest  bet." 

William  was  getting  interested.    He  was 


HER  FIRST  HORSE  SHOW  31 

not  so  concerned  about  Mr.  Stanton's  likes 
as  he  was  that  his  stable  should  take  some 
ribbons. 

"  Mr.  Haughton  said  you  might  ride 
her?  "  he  repeated. 

"  Of  course  he  did,"  said  Angelica;  "  I 
just  left  him  in  Mrs.  Everett's  box,  and 
I  've  got  my  own  saddle  and  everything." 

"  All  right,  miss,"  said  William.  "  Get 
the  saddle,  Tim." 

William  did  not  believe  that  Mr.  Haugh 
ton  had  given  any  such  orders,  but  he  had 
gotten  into  trouble  not  long  before  by 
refusing  to  give  a  mount  to  a  friend  of 
Haughton's  whom  he  did  not  know  and 
who  came  armed  only  with  verbal  ar5- 
thority.  He  knew  that  if  any  harm  was 
done  he  could  hide  behind  that  occur 
rence. 

"  I  want  a  double-reined  snaffle,"  said 
Angelica.  "  Emanuel,"  she  added,  "  you 
have  the  bit  I  used  to  ride  her  with.  Bring 
my  own  bridle." 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  won't  be  able  to  hold 
her,  miss,"  muttered  William ;  "  but  it  's 
as  you  say.  Hurry  up  with  that  saddle," 


32  GALLOPS    2 

he  called  to  the  stable-boy.  "We  ain't 
got  no  time  to  lose.  They  're  callin'  the 
class  now.  You  're  number  two,  miss ;  I  '11 
get  your  number  for  you." 

"  You  '11  be  kilt !  You  '11  be  kilt ! "  said 
Caroline,  dolefully.  "  Think  what  Miss 
Gushing  will  say!" 

"  Caroline,"  said  Angelica,  "  you  don't 
know  anything  about  horses,  so  you  hush." 
And  then  she  added  under  her  breath,  "  If 
I  can  only  get  started  before  Jim  sees  me ! " 

IN  the  Everett  box  they  were  waiting  for 
the  five-foot-six  class  to  begin.  They 
called  it  the  five-foot-six  class  because 
there  were  four  jumps  that  were  five  feet 
six  inches  high ;  the  others  were  an  even 
five  feet.  It  was  the  "  sensational  event " 
of  the  evening.  Thus  far  the  show  had 
been  dull. 

"  Those  saddle-horses  were  an  ordinary 
lot,"  observed  Reggie. 

"  This  is  n't  opening  very  well,  either," 
said  Palfrey.  The  first  horse  had  started 
out  by  refusing.  Then  he  floundered  into 
the  jump  and  fell. 


HER   FIRST   HORSE   SHOW  33 

"  Let  's  not  wait,"  said  Mrs.  Everett. 
But  the  words  were  hardly  spoken  when, 
with  a  quick  movement,  she  turned  her 
glasses  on  the  ring.  Something  unusual 
was  going  on  at  the  farther  end.  A  ripple 
of  applause  came  down  the  sides  of  the 
Garden,  and  then  she  saw  a  black  horse, 
ridden  by  a  girl,  come  cantering  toward 
the  starting-place. 

"  It  's  that  child  on  Hermione !  You 
must  stop  it,  Reggie!"  she  exclaimed  ex 
citedly. 

Before  any  one  could  move,  Angelica 
had  turned  the  horse  toward  the  first 
jump.  It  looked  terribly  high  to  Mrs. 
Everett.  It  was  almost  even  with  the 
head  of  the  man  who  was  standing  on  the 
farther  side  ready  to  replace  the  bars  if 
they  should  be  knocked  down. 

Tossing  her  head  playfully,  the  black 
mare  galloped  steadily  for  the  wings,  took 
off  in  her  stride,  and  swept  over  the  jump 
in  a  long  curve.  She  landed  noiselessly 
on  the  tan-bark,  and  was  on  again.  Around 
the  great  ring  went  the  horse  and  the 
girl,  steadily,  not  too  fast,  and  taking  each 


34  GALLOPS     2 

jump  without  a  mistake.  The  great  crowd 
remained  breathless  and  expectant.  Horse 
and  rider  finished  in  front  of  the  Everett 
box,  and  pulled  up  to  a  trot,  the  mare 
breathing  hard  with  excitement,  but  well- 
mannered. 

Then  a  storm  of  cheers  and  hand-clap 
ping  burst,  the  like  of  which  was  never 
heard  at  a  New  York  horse  show  before. 

As  the  applause  died  away,  Reggie  rose 
and  hurried  out.  "  Let  's  all  go,"  said 
Mrs.  Everett. 

Before  they  got  through  the  crowd  the 
judges  had  awarded  the  ribbons.  There 
were  only  three  other  horses  that  went 
over  all  the  jumps,  and  none  of  them 
made  a  clean  score.  There  was  no  ques 
tion  about  which  was  first.  The  judges 
ran  their  hands  down  the  mare's  legs  in  a 
vain  search  for  lumps.  She  was  short- 
coupled,  with  a  beautiful  shoulder  and 
powerful  quarters.  She  had  four  crosses 
of  thoroughbred,  and  showed  it. 

"  She  's  a  picture  mare,"  said  one  of  the 
judges,  and  he  tied  the  blue  rosette  to  her 
bridle  himself.  Then  the  great  crowd 


HER  FIRST   HORSE   SHOW  35 

cheered  and  clapped  again,  and  Angelica 
rode  down  to  the  entrance  as  calmly  as  if 
she  were  in  the  habit  of  taking  blue  ribbons 
daily.  But  inside  she  was  not  calm. 

"  I  've  got  to  cry  or  something,"  she 
thought. 

At  the  gate  some  one  came  out  of  the 
crowd  and  took  the  mare  by  the  head. 
Angelica  looked  down,  and  there  were  her 
brother  and  Reggie  and  Mrs.  Everett's 
party.  The  Garden  began  to  swim. 

"  Oh,  Jim!"  she  murmured,  "help  me 
down.  It  's  Lady  Washington."  Then 
she  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck  and 
wept. 

THEY  were  at  supper  in  the  old  Waldorf 
Palm  Room  before  Angelica  was  quite 
certain  whether  actual  facts  had  been 
taking  place  or  whether  she  had  been 
dreaming.  It  seemed  rather  too  extraor 
dinary  and  too  pleasant  to  be  true.  Still, 
she  was  sure  that  she  was  there,  because 
the  people  stared  at  her  when  she  came  in 
dressed  in  her  habit,  and  whispered  to 
each  other  about  her.  Furthermore,  a 


36  GALLOPS    2 

party  of  the  judges  came  over  and  asked 
Mrs.  Everett  to  present  them. 

There  never  before  was  quite  such  an 
evening.  It  was  after  twelve,  at  least,  and 
nobody  had  suggested  that  she  ought  to 
be  in  bed.  One  pleasant  thing  followed 
another  in  quick  succession,  and  there 
seemed  no  end  to  them.  She  was  absorbed 
in  an  edible  rapture  which  Mrs.  Everett 
called  a  "cafe  parfait "  when  she  became 
aware  that  Reggie's  friend  Mr.  Palfrey 
had  started  to  address  the  party.  She 
only  half  listened,  because  she  was  wonder 
ing  why  every  one  except  Mrs.  Everett  and 
herself  had  denied  himself  this  delightful 
sweet.  Grown-up  people  had  strange 
tastes. 

Mr.  Palfrey  began  by  saying  that  he 
thought  it  was  time  to  propose  a  toast  in 
honor  of  Miss  Stanton,  which  might  also 
rechristen  Reggie's  mare  by  her  first  and 
true  name,  "  Lady  Washington."  He  said 
that  it  was  plain  to  him  that  the  mare  had 
resented  a  strange  name  out  of  Greek 
mythology,  and  in  future  would  go  kindly, 
particularly  if  Reggie  never  tried  to  ride 
her  again. 


HER  FIRST   HORSE   SHOW  37 

He  went  on  with  his  remarks,  and  from 
time  to  time  the  people  interrupted  with 
laughter;  but  it  was  only  a  meaningless 
sound  in  Angelica's  ears.  The  words 
"  Reggie's  mare"  had  come  like  a  blow  in 
the  face.  She  had  forgotten  about  that. 
Her  knees  grew  weak  and  a  lump  swelled  in 
her  throat.  It  was  true,  of  course,  but  for 
the  time  being  it  had  passed  out  of  her  mind. 
And  now  that  Lady  Washington  had  won 
the  rive-foot-six  class  and  was  so  much 
admired,  probably  Jim  could  not  afford 
to  buy  her  back.  It  was  doubtful  if  Mr. 
Haughton  would  sell  her  at  any  price. 

Presently  she  was  aroused  by  a  remark 
addressed  directly  to  her. 

'  I  think  that  's  a  good  idea,"  said 
Reggie.  "  Don't  you  ?  " 

She  nodded;  but  she  did  not  know 
what  the  idea  was,  and  she  did  not  trust 
her  voice  to  ask. 

"  Only,"  he  continued,  turning  to  Pal 
frey,  "it  is  n't  my  mare  any  more;  it  's 
Miss  Stanton's.  Put  that  in,  Palfrey." 

Angelica's  mouth  opened  in  wonder 
ment  and  her  heart  stood  still.  She 
looked  about  the  table  blankly. 


38  GALLOPS    2 

"  It 's  so,"  said  Reggie ;  "  she  's  yours." 

"But  I  can't  take  her,"  she  said  fal- 
teringly.  "  She  's  too  valuable.  Can  I, 
Jim?" 

"  But  Jim  's  bought  her,"  said  Reggie, 
hurriedly. 

Angelica's  eyes  settled  on  her  brother's 
face  ;  he  said  nothing,  but  began  to  smile  ; 
Reggie  was  kicking  him  under  the  table. 

"  Yes,"  said  Reggie ;  "  when  I  saw  you 
ride  Lady  Washington,  that  settled  it 
with  me.  I  'm  too  proud  to  stand  being 
beaten  by  a  girl;  so  I  made  Jim  buy 
her  back  and  promise  to  give  her  to  you." 

"Do  you  mean  it?"  said  Angelica. 
"  Is  Lady  Washington  really  mine?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  said. 

She  dropped  her  hands  in  her  lap  and 
sighed  wearily.  "  It  does  n't  seem  possi 
ble,"  she  murmured.  She  paused  and 
seemed  to  be  running  over  the  situation  in 
her  mind.  Presently  she  spoke  as  if  una 
ware  that  the  others  were  listening.  -  "  I 
knew  it  would  happen,  though,"  she  said. 
"  I  knew  it.  I  reckon  I  prayed  enough." 
She  smiled  as  a  great  thrill  of  happiness 


HER   FIRST   HORSE   SHOW  39 

ran  through  her,  and  glancing  up,  saw 
that  all  the  rest  were  smiling,  too. 

"  I  'm  so  happy,"  she  said  apologeti 
cally.  Then  she  bethought  herself,  and 
furtively  reached  down  and  tapped  the 
frame  of  her  chair  with  her  knuckles. 

"  Well,  here  's  the  toast,"  said  Mr.  Pal 
frey,  rising.  "  To  the  lady  and  Lady 
Washington."  And  they  all  rose  and 
drank  it  standing. 


ISABELLA 


II 

ISABELLA 

THAT  's  all,"  said  Mr.  Parsons  Scott. 
He    waved  his  hand  at  the  groom, 
directing  him  to  take  the  horse  which  was 
loose  in  the  paddock  back  to  the  stable. 

"  They  are  a  good  lot,"  observed  Mr. 
Carteret.  He  had  been  putting  in  the 
morning  inspecting  Mr.  Scott's  hunters. 

Parsons  Scott  had  an  office  in  town,  at 
which  an  office-boy  might  sometimes  be 
found.  Scott's  personal  attention  was  de 
voted  to  the  purchase,  education,  and  sale 
of  hunters.  As  a  prudent  grandparent  had 
provided  him  with  an  income,  he  was  able 
to  live  in  the  country  with  comfort  and  to 
maintain  the  town  office  and  his  horse 
business  as  well. 

43 


44  GALLOPS    2 

"  I  'm  glad  you  like  them,"  replied  Scott, 
referring  to  Mr.  Carteret's  commendation  of 
his  horses.  Carteret's  opinion  was  expert. 

"Yes,"  repeated  Mr.  Carteret;  "they 
are  a  good  lot.  They  are  better  than 
Harrington's  and  better  than  Brown's.  But 
I  really  don't  think  there  is  anything  that 
will  do  for  me.  As  I  told  you,  I  want 
something  like  old  Elevator — something 
that  jumps  exceptionally  big  and  sure." 

"  The  only  other  thing  which  I  have  is  a 
mare  that  came  yesterday  from  Canada," 
observed  Scott.  "  I  have  n't  had  her  out 
yet.  I  got  her  in  a  trade,  and  probably 
something  is  the  matter  with  her;  but 
they  say  she  can  jump.  Bring  out  Isa 
bella!"  he  called  to  the  groom — "  the  new 
chestnut  mare." 

"  Did  you  give  her  that  name  ?  "  in 
quired  Mr.  Carteret. 

"  No,"  said  Scott ;  "  I  should  n't  name  a 
horse  Isabella." 

"  I  did  n't  know,"  observed  Mr.  Car 
teret.  "  I  thought  you  might  be  growing 
sentimental.  It  's  a  pretty  name  for  a 
gentle  mare." 


ISABELLA  45 

"  Stuff ! "  said  Scott. 

"  Quite  an  animal,"  observed  Mr.  Car- 
teret,  as  the  mare  trotted  into  the  paddock. 
"  Sporty-looking,  is  n't  she  ?  White  blaze 
and  stockings  and  a  piece  out  of  her  ear. 
She  is  uncommonly  well  made,"  he  went 
on ;  "  but  her  head  is  coarse,  and  she  car 
ries  it  too  knowingly  for  a  picture  horse." 

"  Yes,"  said  Scott.  "  I  am  sorry  about 
the  nick  in  her  ear.  It  takes  a  hundred  off 
her  value.  But  she  is  a  mare  with  a  lot  of 
character — the  kind  that  can  look  out  for 
herself  and  you  too." 

Carteret  nodded.  "Turn  her  at  the 
jump,"  he  said  to  the  groom.  In  the  pad 
dock  there  was  a  made  jump,  with  wings, 
over  which  horses  could  be  chased  without 
riders  on  their  backs.  The  bars  were  about 
five  feet  high  when  Carteret  spoke. 

"  That  's  too  high  to  start  with,"  said 
Scott.  "  She  is  just  off  the  car." 

The  groom,  who  had  started  to  drive 
the  horse,  stopped. 

"  Let  it  down  to  four  feet,"  Scott  con 
tinued. 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  said. 


46  GALLOPS    2 

Before  he  reached  the  jump  Scott  called 
him  back.  Isabella  was  trotting  leisurely 
into  the  wings  of  her  own  accord. 

"Look!"  said  Scott. 

The  mare  reached  the  jump,  popped 
over  it,  gave  a  whisk  of  her  closely  docked 
tail,  and  began  placidly  to  graze. 

"  That  's  a  very  remarkable  horse,"  ob 
served  Carteret. 

"  She  likes  it,"  said  Scott.  "  Put  the 
bars  up  to  six  feet,"  he  called. 

The  groom  adjusted  the  bars  and  herded 
Isabella  around  in  front  of  the  wings  again. 
She  looked  languidly  at  the  jump,  and 
started  for  it  at  a  slow  canter.  She  cleared 
it  as  easily  as  before,  and  went  to  crop 
ping  tufts  of  grass  again. 

Parsons  Scott  swelled  visibly  with  pride. 
"  She  just  plays  over  six  feet,"  he  said. 
"  It  's  chocolate-drops  for  her,  Carty,"  he 
continued.  "This  is  a  horse." 

"  I  think  it  is,"  said  Mr.  Carteret,  rather 
humbly  for  him.  "  Let  's  try  seven  feet." 

"  Please,  sir,"  said  the  groom,  "  we  can't 
put  the  bars  up  no  higher." 

"  Well,    never    mind,"    said    Carteret. 


ISABELLA  47 

"  Scotty,"  he  continued,  "  I  think  this  one 
will  do.  I  might  as  well  tell  you  the  truth. 
I  'm  looking  for  something  for  a — "  He 
hesitated.  "  I  'm  looking  for  a  lady's 
hunter,  and  I  want  a  natural  big  jumper, 
something  that  can't  make  a  mistake.  If 
this  mare  is  only  sound — " 

"  She  is  sound,"  Scott  broke  in.  "  I 
might  as  well  tell  you  the  truth,  too.  She 
is  a  perfect  lady's  hunter.  I  got  her  some 
what  reasonably  because  she  kicked  a 
man's  buggy  to  pieces.  He  was  an  idiot 
who  left  her  tied  in  a  village  street  in  fly- 
time.  A  traction-engine  came  past,  and 
the  buggy  melted  away.  I  should  n't 
exactly  guarantee  her  to  drive,  but  you 
can  see  yourself  she  's  gentle  as  a  kitten. 
She  's  a  perfect  pet  for  a  girl." 

"  I  did  n't  say  it  was  for  a  girl,"  observed 
Mr.  Carteret. 

Scott  looked  at  him,  but  made  no  reply. 
He  picked  up  a  green  apple  that  lay  by 
the  paddock  fence  and  held  it  out  to  the 
mare.  Isabella  came  forward  promptly 
and  took  it.  "  Look!"  he  said.  "  She  '11 
eat  out  of  your  hand." 


48  GALLOPS    2 

"  That  is  very  affecting,"  said  Mr.  Car- 
teret. 

"  She  will  probably  come  around  to 
driving  in  time,"  observed  Scott.  "  Sup 
pose  we  see  her  under  saddle." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  her  under  saddle," 
said  Mr.  Carteret. 

Scott  spoke  to  the  groom,  and  he  led 
Isabella  into  the  stable.  While  they 
waited,  the  two  sat  on  the  top  board  of 
the  paddock  fence  and  discussed  the  ques 
tion  of  price. 

"  I  think  the  mare,"  observed  Scott, 
"  is  certainly  worth  a  thousand  dollars. 
She  'd  bring  that  on  her  jumping  alone, 
and — " 

"  But  I  tell  you  that  's  too  much,"  said 
Mr.  Carteret ;  "  my  commission  does  n't 
authorize  me  to  spend  so  much :  and  yet, 
I  want  the  horse." 

"  I  was  about  to  say,"  continued  Scott, 
"  when  you  interrupted  me,  that  on  ac 
count  of  the  buggy  affair  I  would  sell  her 
for  exactly — "  He  stopped.  There  was  a 
clatter  in  the  stable,  and  somersaulting 
through  the  air  out  of  the  doorway  shot 


ISABELLA  49 

Scott's  groom,  followed  by  Isabella,  who 
trotted  to  a  spot  where  the  grass  was  ten 
der  and  began  to  graze. 

Scott  jumped  down  from  the  fence. 
"What  have  you  got  under  that  mare's 
saddle  ?  "  he  bawled  at  the  groom. 

"  Nothing,  sir,"  said  the  man,  who  was 
picking  himself  up. 

"  From  the  way  he  came  off,"  observed 
Mr.  Carteret,  "  there  might  be  a  spring 
board,  or  almost  anything  of  that  kind." 

Scott  paid  no  attention  to  the  joke. 
He  went  over  to  Isabella,  who  fed  on,  un 
disturbed  at  his  approach.  Taking  off 
the  saddle,  he  looked  for  nail-points  and 
objects  of  a  sharp  or  lumpy  nature.  There 
was  nothing  there.  Saddle  and  leather 
pad  were  in  perfect  repair. 

"  You  must  have  done  something  to 
her,"  said  Scott.  "  I  '11  ride  her  myself." 

The  groom  acquiesced  obediently.  Scott 
mounted,  and  Isabella  stood  meekly  till 
he  was  on  and  had  both  his  feet  home  in 
the  stirrups.  "  Now,"  he  said,  "  I  shall 
move  her  around  the  paddock,  slowly  at 
first." 

4 


So  GALLOPS    2 

He  spoke  to  Isabella,  telling  her  to  "  Get 
up  " ;  and  then,  placidly  and  more  in  sor 
row  than  in  anger,  the  mare  gave  three 
bucks.  The  first  was  a  large  one,  but 
Scott  hung  on.  With  the  second,  which 
was  larger,  he  was  on  her  withers.  On 
the  third  buck  she  shook  out  all  reefs  and 
sent  him  crashing  through  the  top  board 
of  the  paddock  fence.  He  landed  outside, 
surprised  but  uninjured. 

"I  have  been  to  all  the  Wild  West 
Shows,"  observed  Mr.  Carteret  from  the 
fence ;  "  I  think  you  have  the  best  bucker 
I  ever  saw.  Are  you  hurt  ?  " 

"I  shall  fix  that  mare,"  said  Scott, 
gloomy  with  rage.  He  called  to  the  man : 
"  Bring  out  a  harness-bridle  with  a  check- 
rein,  and  some  strong  cord."  He  climbed 
back  over  the  fence.  "  Look  at  her!"  he 
said.  The  mare  had  gone  back  to  the 
plot  of  tender  grass.  The  episode  seemed 
to  have  stirred  no  evil  passions  in  her. 

"  She  certainly  is  a  mare  of  character," 
observed  Mr.  Carteret,  thoughtfully. 

Scott  watched  her  in  silence  until  the 
groom  came  out  with  the  bearing-rein  and 


ISABELLA  51 

string;  then  he  approached  Isabella  and 
proceeded  to  arrange  the  apparatus,  and 
Isabella  made  no  remonstrance.  "  Do  you 
see,"  said  Scott,  "  how  she  can  get  her 
head  down  now  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Carteret,  doubtfully. 
There  was  something  in  Isabella's  resource 
ful  calm  which  impressed  him  and  made 
him  uncertain  of  everything. 

Scott  mounted,  and  clucked  to  Isabella 
to  start.  Then  a  curious  thing  happened. 
She  made  no  attempt  to  fight  the  bearing- 
rein  and  buck.  She  lifted  her  fore  legs 
and  reared  rather  slowly  until  she  was 
perpendicular. 

"Look  out!  She  's  going  over!"  said 
Mr.  Carteret. 

As  he  spoke  she  dropped  over  on  her 
back. 

Scott  had  anticipated  her  action.  He 
slid  off  before  she  came  down,  and  rolled 
himself  out  of  her  way.  He  arose  hastily, 
and,  with  such  dignity  as  a  man  can  com 
mand  who  has  been  rolling  in  the  soil  of 
his  paddock,  said  to  the  groom,  "You 
may  take  the  mare  to  the  stable."  Then 


52  GALLOPS    2 

he  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  paddock  fence 
and  sat  down  beside  Carteret.  "  Carty," 
he  said  after  a  long  silence,  "  I  had  always 
believed  that  a  horse  that  was  well  checked 
up  could  n't  rear." 

Carteret  tapped  the  fence  boards 
thoughtfully  with  his  ratan  stick.  "  Old 
man,"  he  said,  "  as  we  go  on  in  life  we  lose 
many  of  our  young  beliefs." 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Scott  made 
no  answer.  "  I  think,"  he  observed  pres 
ently,  "  that  a  trap  just  now  turned  into 
the  driveway." 

They  could  see  the  house  from  where 
they  sat,  and  they  watched  and  waited. 
In  a  few  moments  they  saw  Williams,  the 
indoor  man,  come  out  and  hurry  down  the 
walk  toward  the  stables. 

"You  might  brush  yourself,"  suggested 
Mr.  Carteret.  "  A  man  who  sells  horses 
ought  not  to  be  found  at  Ms  own  stables 
with  so  much  mud  on  the  back  of  his  coat." 

"  Brush  me,"  said  Scott.  "  Who  is  it  ?  " 
he  called  to  the  man  as  he  approached. 

"  Mr.  Henderson  Lamppie,  sir,"  said  the 
man. 


ISABELLA  53 

Scott  jumped  down  from  the  fence  and 
twisted  his  mustache  for  a  moment  "  I 
don't  think  I  can  stand  him  to-day,"  he 
said,  as  if  speaking  to  himself. 

Mr.  Carteret  also  came  down  from  the 
fence.  "  Old  man,"  he  said,  "  I  ought  to 
be  going." 

Scott  looked  at  him  in  surprise.  "  But 
you  said  you  'd  stop  for  lunch,"  he  said 
plaintively,  "  and  it  is  almost  ready." 

"  I  know,"  said  Mr.  Carteret ;  "  but  I  for 
got  about  an  appointment.  I  must  hurry." 

"  Carty,"  said  Scott,  "  if  you  leave  me 
alone  with  Henderson  Lamppie,  it  never 
can  be  the  same  between  us." 

"Well,"  said  Carteret,  "  if  you  put  it 
that  way,  I  shall  have  to  stay ;  but  I  may 
not  be  very  civil." 

"  You  can  be  what  you  please,"  said 
Scott.  "Tell  Mr.  Lamppie,"  he  said  to 
the  man,  "  that  we  are  at  the  stables.  Put 
another  place  at  lunch,  and  make  my 
excuses  for  not  going  up  to  the  house  to 
meet  him.  Carty,"  added  Scott,  after  the 
man  had  gone,  "  what  an  odious  little 
beast  that  fellow  is!" 


54  GALLOPS     2 

"  The  most  odious,"  said  Mr.  Carteret. 

"  Carty,"  said  Scott,  "  don't  you  think  it 
strange  that  a  girl  like  Elizabeth  Hem- 
inway  should  stand  having  him  about? 
Those  Dago  diplomats  are  bad  enough, 
but  Lamppie  is  worse." 

"That  thought  has  occurred  to  me," 
said  Mr.  Carteret. 

"Carty,"  said  Scott,  "I  feel  that  we 
ought  to  do  something  to  save  Elizabeth 
Heminway.  One  of  us  ought  to  marry 
her." 

Carteret  laughed  softly.  "  That  thought, 
too,  has  occurred  to  me,"  he  said;  "but 
not  the  part  of  it  which  introduces  you." 

"Well,  ride  up,  then,"  said  Scott.  "  Go 
out  in  front.  I  '11  give  you  the  panel  first." 

"  It  is  foolish,"  said  Carteret,  slowly,  "to 
ride  for  a  fall  when  you  know  the  landing 
is  hard." 

"Falls  be  hanged!"  said  Scott.  "If 
white  men  like  you  are  going  to  funk, 
probably  some  Dago  or  Chinee  will  marry 
her,  or  Lamppie." 

"  Very  probably,"  said  Mr.  Carteret. 
"  It  is  apt  to  be  that  way." 


ISABELLA  55 

"Well,  something  ought  to  be  done," 
said  Scott. 

"  That  's  true,"  said  Carteret. 

"  We  might  begin  by  murdering  Lamp- 
pie,"  suggested  Scott. 

"Why  not  put  him  on  Isabella?"  said 
Mr.  Carteret.  "  It  's  more  lawful." 

"That  might  be  better,"  said  Scott. 
"  He  's  coming." 

Carteret  glanced  at  the  approaching  fig 
ure,  and  then  looked  gravely  at  a  mud-pud 
dle  about  fifty  feet  beyond  the  paddock 
fence.  "  Do  you  think,"  he  said,  "  that  she 
could  buck  him  over  the  fence  into  that  ?  " 

"I  think  she  could,"  said  Scott;  "but 
probably  she  would  n't :  she  's  too  con 
trary." 

"  Probably  not,"  said  Mr.  Carteret,  with 
a  sigh. 

"Hallo,  you  chaps!"  called  out  Mr. 
Lamppie,  when  he  came  within  hearing 
distance.  "  I  say,  Scotty,  have  you  got  a 
good  one  for  me?  I  'm  in  a  hurry,  and 
can't  look  the  string  over,  but  I  want  the 
best  you  Ve  got — something  that  can  take 
care  of  himself." 


$6  GALLOPS    2 

Scott  came  down  from  the  fence  and 
greeted  Mr.  Lamppie.  "  We  have  just 
been  looking  at  the  biggest  jumper  I  have. 
She  is  likewise,  in  my  opinion,  the  most 
capable  of  looking  out  for  herself." 

"  Is  that  so,  Carty  ?  "  said  Mr.  Lamppie. 

"  It  is,"  said  Mr.  Carteret. 

"  Trot  her  out,"  said  Lamppie.  "  That 's 
what  I  'm  looking  for." 

Scott  called  to  the  stable :  "  Bring  out 
Isabella  again." 

"  Under  saddle,  sir?  "  asked  the  man. 

"  I  'd  rather  see  her  stripped  first,"  said 
Lamppie.  "You  see,  I  can  tell  at  a 
glance  whether  there  is  any  use  seeing 
her  jump." 

The  groom  came  out  with  Isabella. 

"  Not  a  bad-looking  mare,"  said  Lamp- 
pie.  He  turned  to  Carteret.  "  What  do 
you  think,  Carty?" 

"I  don't  think,"  said  Mr.  Carteret,  se 
verely;  "  I  know." 

"Quite  right,"  said  Lamppie,  affably; 
"  you  are  quite  right."  Lamppie  was  un 
comfortable  when  he  talked  horse  before 
Mr.  Carteret,  who  was  eminent  in  these 


ISABELLA  57 

matters,  and  he  tried  to  put  himself  more 
at  ease  by  being  patronizing.  "  As  I  said, 
you  are  quite  right,"  he  went  on;  "  she  is 
dooced  good-looking.  Now  the  question 
is,  Can  she  jump  as  I  like  to  have  them  ?  " 

"  You  are  the  only  person  who  can  de 
cide  that,"  said  Scott.  The  bars  were 
standing  at  six  feet.  "  Send  her  over," 
he  said  to  the  groom. 

"  But,  I  say,"  interrupted  Lamppie,  "you 
're  not  going  to  start  her  in  at  six  feet?  " 

"Why  not?"  said  Scott,  with  surprise 
in  his  tone.  "  She  plays  over  six  feet." 

The  words  were  scarcely  spoken  before 
Isabella  cantered  into  the  wings  and  popped 
over  the  jump  with  several  inches  to  spare. 

"That  is  astounding,"  said  Lamppie, 
"truly  astounding!" 

"  I  'm  sorry,"  said  Scott,  "  that  we  can't 
put  the  bars  up  higher ;  but  if  you  want 
to  ride  her  over  the  paddock  fence,  you 
may.  It  's  not  more  than  seven  feet  six." 

Lamppie  looked  around,  and  his  eye 
fell  on  the  broken  board  in  the  paddock 
fence.  "  You  have  n't  been  sending  her 
over  that?"  he  said  in  amazement. 


58  GALLOPS    2 

"That  is  one  of  Scott's  reckless  acts," 
said  Carteret.  "He  was  riding  the  mare 
in  the  paddock,  and  the  first  thing  I  knew, 
by  Jove !  he  'd  taken  the  fence.  It  's  not 
surprising  that  he  broke  the  top  board,  be 
cause  he  held  on  to  her  head  shockingly. 
You  know,  Scott  has  bad  hands." 

Lamppie  looked  at  the  jump  in  wonder. 
"  Did  the  mare  go  down  ?  "  he  asked. 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Carteret;  "she  never 
staggered." 

"  That  is  the  boldest  jump,"  said  Lamp- 
pie,  "  that  I  ever  heard  about" 

"  Lamppie,  you  are  right,"  said  Mr. 
Carteret.  "  You  'd  better  get  up  on  her 
back,"  he  continued,  "  and  try  her  over 
something  yourself.  You  need  n't  select 
such  a  tall  obstacle ;  but  she  won't  go 
down  with  you." 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  have  n't  time,"  replied 
Lamppie,  doubtfully.  He  looked  at  his 
watch.  "  No,  I  have  n't,"  he  added.  "  I 
ought  to  be  going  now."  When  Lamppie 
knew  that  Mr.  Carteret  was  watching  him 
take  a  jump,  the  space  between  himself 
and  the  saddle,  which,  in  fact,  was  not 


ISABELLA  59 

inconsiderable,  seemed  at  least  four  feet. 
He  would  come  down  somewhere  in  front 
of  the  saddle,  and,  to  make  matters  worse, 
would  hoist  himself  into  his  seat  by  the 
reins.  "  No,"  he  repeated,  "  I  have  n't 
time ;  but,"  he  continued,  turning  to  Scott, 
"  I  'm  going  to  take  that  mare  on  your 
say-so  and  at  your  own  price." 

"  But,"  said  Scott,  "  I  have  n't  said  any 
'  say-so,'  and  I  don't  intend  to.  You  make 
a  mistake  to  buy  a  horse  without  riding 
her.  You  see,  to  be  honest,  I  don't  think 
she  'd  suit  you."  -  There  was  a  moral 
struggle  going  on  within  Scott,  and  the 
right  triumphed.  "  She  bucks,"  he  said. 

Mr.  Carteret  looked  away  in  disgust. 

"  Fudge ! "  said  Lamppie,  "  I  don't  mind 
a  little  playful  bucking.  It  is  rather  pleas 
ant  to  go  prancing  about  a  bit." 

"  It  is,  is  n't  it  ?  "  said  Carteret.  "  It  's 
the  luxury  of  riding."  He  looked  at  the 
broken  board  in  the  fence  and  smiled 
sweetly  at  Lamppie. 

"  She  bucks  a  good  deal,"  said  Scott. 

Lamppie  looked  shrewdly  at  Scott  and 
then  at  Carteret.  "  I  see  his  game,"  he 


60  GALLOPS    2 

said  to  himself :  "  he  wants  Carty  to  buy 
the  mare."  Then  he  said  aloud  :  "  That  's 
all  right;  I  '11  take  her." 

"  Mind,  I  Ve  warned  you,"  said  Scott. 
"  You  had  better  try  her  first." 

"  No  time,"  said  Lamppie.  "  I  '11  send 
after  her  to-morrow." 

"  I  think,"  began  Mr.  Carteret,  slowly, 
from  on  top  of  the  fence—"  I  think,  Lamp- 
pie,"  he  went  on,  "  that  you  are  funking. 
She  's  a  bad  horse.  You  'd  better  try  her 
before  you  buy." 

Lamppie  was  now  sure  that  Carteret 
wanted  her.  He  looked  knowingly  at  him 
and  laughed.  "  Sorry  I  took  her  away 
from  you,  Carty,"  he  said.  "  By-by, 
boys!  "  He  waved  his  hand  and  was  off. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Carteret,  after  he  was 
out  of  ear-shot,  "  we  did  n't  have  any  fun, 
but  Isabella  will  have  some.  Why  did 
you  try  to  spoil  the  sale  of  your  high 
performer?  " 

Scott  looked  dismally  at  Carteret.  "  It 
is  all  right,"  he  said,  "  to  kill  a  man  fairly, 
but  to  sell  him  dynamite  sticks  for  cream 
candy  is  mean." 


ISABELLA  61 

"You  are  childish,"  said  Mr.  Carteret, 
"  and  will  never  succeed  in  the  horse  busi 
ness.  As  it  is,  do  you  suppose  any  one 
will  believe  that  we  have  not  unloaded 
Isabella  on  Lamppie?  If  you  must  pay 
the  piper,  why  not  dance  ?  " 

"  I  'm  afraid  there  is  something  in  what 
you  say,"  said  Scott,  sadly.  "But  we 
might  have  a  small  drink  in  celebration 
because  he  did  n't  stop  to  lunch." 

"  That  is  a  reasonable  excuse,"  said  Mr. 
Carteret,  and  they  went  to  the  house. 

The  next  day  Scott  had  Isabella  led  by 
a  groom  eleven  miles  to  Lamppie's  estab 
lishment  and  delivered  in  good  order. 
The  day  following  he  received  Lamppie's 
check.  In  the  same  mail  came  a  letter 
from  a  ranch  which  he  supported  in  Mon 
tana.  His  manager,  it  appeared,  had  con 
tracted  bad  habits,  and  the  property  was 
vanishing.  This  letter  made  it  necessary 
for  Scott  to  set  out  for  Montana  at  once. 
Accordingly,  on  the  third  day  after  the 
delivery  of  Isabella,  he  started  on  his 
journey. 

As  he  was  boarding  the  train  the  tele- 


62  GALLOPS    2 

graph-operator  rushed  out  with  a  message. 
"  This  has  just  come,"  he  said. 

Scott  tore  open  the  telegram.     It  said  : 

I.  has  begun  with  L.  Collar-bone  and  shoulder- 
blade  this  morning.  C.  C. 

"  Whew!  "said  Scott,  softly.  He  got 
on  the  gar  and  ran  into  Eliot  Peabody. 

"  Has  some  one  left  you  a  fortune  ? " 
said  Peabody,  pleasantly. 

"  No,"  said  Scott.     "Why?" 

"You  look  so  happy,"  answered  Pea- 
body. 

"  It  is  very  bad  news,"  said  Scott,  "  very 
regrettable."  Then  he  sat  down  and  read 
the  telegram  again. 

Scott  got  back  a  month  later,  and  went 
to  work  at  his  hunters.  The  first  person 
outside  his  own  establishment  whom  he 
saw  was  Mr.  Carteret.  Scott  was  school 
ing  over  some  low  fences,  which  were  hap 
pily  screened  from  the  house  of  the  man 
who  owned  them  by  a  thick  wood,  when 
he  saw  Carteret  hacking  along  the  road. 
He  went  out  to  the  road  and  joined  him. 

"  That 's   a  good-looking    horse,"   said 


ISABELLA  63 

Mr.  Carteret,  by  way  of  a  greeting,  "  but 
he  's  got  a  spavin  coming,  I  'm  afraid." 

"  Nonsense!"  said  Scott.  But  he  dis 
mounted  and  anxiously  examined  the  sus 
pected  leg.  "  Well,"  he  said,  "  if  it  's  a 
spavin  it  's  a  spavin,  and  it  can't  be 
helped." 

"  When  did  you  get  back?  "  asked  Car 
teret. 

"  Yesterday,"  Scott  replied. 

Carteret  looked  at  him  gravely.  "  Have 
you  heard  about  the  mare  ?  "  he  said. 

"What  mare?"  said  Scott.  He  was 
still  studying  the  prospects  of  spavin. 

"  The  chestnut  one,  Isabella,"  said  Car 
teret. 

"  I  got  your  telegram,"  said  Scott.  "  It 
was  too  bad  about  Lamppie's  collar-bone." 

"That  was  the  beginning,"  observed 
Carteret. 

"Did  he  ride  her  again?"  asked  Scott. 
"  I  never  thought  Lamppie  was  that  kind 
of  fool." 

"No,"  Carteret  answered.  "She  has 
been  working  with  others.  They  Ve  had 
some  drag-hounds  at  Newport — " 


64  GALLOPS    2 

"  Did  they  furnish  sport?"  interrupted 
Scott. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Carteret;  "  I  was 
afraid  to  go  there.  But  I  think  Isabella 
furnished  some  sport.  You  see,"  Mr.  Car 
teret  continued,  "  I  was  going  to  Newport 
just  after  you  left  for  the  West,  and  then 
I  changed  my  mind.  I  got  a  line  from 
Elizabeth  Heminway  asking  me  there  to 
stop  with  them." 

"You  did!"  exclaimed  Scott.  "Why 
did  n't  you  go?  How  is  that  girl  going 
to  be  saved  if  you  refuse  to  do  your 
duty?" 

"  Have  n't  you  had  a  letter  from  her?  " 
asked  Carteret. 

"  No,"  said  Scott,  wonderingly.  "  Why  ?" 

"  Have  n't  you  heard  ?  "  said  Carteret. 

"  Heard  what?  "  demanded  Scott. 

"Why,  it  seems,"  said  Mr.  Carteret, 
slowly,  "  that  I  was  not  the  only  person 
commissioned  to  look  for  a  lady's  hunter. 
Lamppie  was  buying  a  horse  for  Miss 
Heminway  when  you  sold  him  Isabella." 

Scott's  jaw  dropped.  "  I  did  n't  sell  him 
the  horse  as  much  as  you  did,"  he  said. 


ISABELLA  65 

"  That  is,  of  course,  untrue,"  replied  Mr. 
Carteret ;  "  but  I  am  afraid  that  Lamppie 
takes  your  view  of  it." 

"  Was  her  letter  severe  ?  "  asked  Scott. 

Carteret  shook  his  head.  "  That  is  what 
scared  me,"  he  said.  "  It  was  sweet  and 
gentle.  I  suspect  that  she  wants  me  to 
ride  that  horse." 

Scott  laughed.  "  So  you  did  n't  go  ?  " 
he  asked. 

"  I  went  to  Lenox  instead,"  said  Car 
teret.  "  I  was  there  three  days.  The 
second  day  a  man  came  up  from  Newport 
who  is  attached  to  the  French  embassy. 
He  had  his  arm  in  a  sling  and  his  knee  in 
a  rubber  bandage.  He  had  been  hunting 
Isabella.  I  left  and  went  up  to  Bar  Har 
bor.  When  the  boat  got  there,  they 
carried  somebody  ashore  who  had  n't  been 
visible  on  the  trip.  It  was  what's-his- 
name, — you  know  him, — one  of  the  secre 
taries  of  the  British  embassy.  He  is  a 
good  man  on  a  horse.  He  had  been 
breaking  Isabella  for  Miss  Heminway. 
He  told  me  all  about  it.  Isabella  caught 
him  with  a  back  roll  and  loosened  his 


66  GALLOPS    2 

ribs.  This  chap  said  that  two  horse- 
tamers  belonging  to  some  of  the  Latin 
legations  were  also  laid  up  as  the  result 
of  breaking  Isabella  to  oblige  Miss  Hemin- 
way.  I  left  Bar  Harbor  in  a  day  or  two 
and  went  up  to  town.  In  the  club  I  met 
Crewe  and  the  British  first  secretary. 
They  were  talking  about  a  young  Spanish 
man  who  had  been  witching  Miss  Hemin- 
way  with  his  horsemanship.  He  had  con 
cussion  of  the  brain,  and  they  doubted 
whether  he  'd  pull  through." 

Carteret  paused. 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  said  Scott. 

"  I  think  it  is  enough,"  said  Mr.  Car 
teret.  "  It  has  strained  diplomatic  relations 
with  the  powers,  and  though  it  has  thinned 
out  many  undesirable  admirers,  it  has 
ruined  our  prospects." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  it  has  not  helped  you" 
said  Scott.  "  I  am  sure  that  Lamppie  re 
membered  that  I  warned  him  not  to  buy 
the  mare." 

Carteret  looked  at  Scott  with  contempt. 

"  I  'm  coming  to  lunch,"  he  said,  and 
rode  off. 


ISABELLA  67 

When  Carteret  arrived,  Scott  was  read 
ing  a  letter.  He  looked  up  as  Carteret 
came  in. 

"  It  is  all  right,"  he  said.  "  We  are  for 
given." 

"To  what  do  you  refer?"  asked  Mr. 
Carteret. 

Scott  handed  him  the  note.  "  It  is  a  very 
sweet  and  noble  letter,"  said  he.  "  She 
appreciates  our  innocence  in  the  matter." 

"From  Elizabeth?"  asked  Carteret,  as 
he  took  it. 

Scott  nodded. 

"  She  says  she  wants  to  keep  the  mare, 
much  as  one  might  preserve  an  historic 
battle-ground  or  the  sword  that  slew  a 
king." 

Carteret  read  the  letter.  "  She  asks 
you  down  to  Long  Island  for  Sunday,"  he 
said.  "  Are  you  going?  " 

"  I  am,"  said  Scott. 

"  She  has  asked  me  also,"  said  Carteret. 
"  I  found  a  note  from  her  when  I  got 
home." 

"  You  are  going,  are  n't  you  ? "  said 
Scott. 


68  GALLOPS    2 

"  I  am  in  doubt,"  said  Carteret,  slowly. 
"  I  am  suspicious.  I  have  known  Eliza 
beth  Heminway  for  a  good  many  years. 
She  is  forgiving  and  noble,  but  I  think  she 
would  like  to  see  us  riding  Isabella." 

"  Rubbish!"  said  Scott.  "  She  can't 
make  us  get  up  on  a  horse  we  don't  want 
to  ride,  and  she  can't  trick  us  into  it,  be 
cause  we  know  the  mare.  She  might  have 
her  painted,  but  she  can't  put  back  the 
piece  out  of  her  ear." 

"  No,"  said  Carteret,  uneasily;  "I  sup 
pose  not.  But  Elizabeth  is  a  woman  of 
some  intellect.  I  would  n't  mind  the  spill, 
but  she  would  have  a  crowd  around,  and 
I  don't  fancy  being  made  a  Roman  holiday 
for  Lamppie  and  a  lot  of  Dagos." 

"  You  '11  go,"  said  Scott. 

"  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to,"  said  Mr. 
Carteret.  "  Are  we  going  to  have  any 
lunch?" 

CARTERET  and  Scott  arrived  at  Miss 
Heminway 's  on  Saturday  afternoon.  Miss 
Heminway  lived  with  an  aunt,  or  rather 
she  had  an  aunt  live  with  her.  Her 


ISABELLA  69 

character  and  fortune  fitted  her  to  lead  a 
somewhat  original  life  and  to  assume  much 
of  the  independence  of  action  of  a  man. 
She  had  her  own  hunters,  driving-horses, 
dogs,  zoological  garden  pets,  to  say  nothing 
of  a  large  and  ever-diversified  corps  of 
personal  attaches.  All  these  she  regulated 
according  to  her  own  views. 

Carteret  and  Scott  had  an  extremely 
happy  time.  They  were  the  only  guests, 
and  the  subject  of  Isabella  was  not  intro 
duced.  Once  Mr.  Lamppie's  unfortunate 
accident  slipped  into  the  conversation,  but 
Miss  Heminway  laughed,  and  looking 
meaningly  at  her  friends,  said :  "  I  am 
willing  to  let  bygones  be  bygones.  Are 
you?" 

Carteret  and  Scott  laughed  delightedly 
and  said  that  they  were  more  than  willing. 
What  pleased  them  especially  was  the 
double  meaning  of  the  remark,  which  they 
took  to  imply  that  Lamppie  was  a  bygone 
thing  in  Miss  Heminway's  estimation. 

Both  walked  with  her,  singly  and  to 
gether,  on  Sunday  morning;  but  in  the 
afternoon  their  joy  clouded.  Almost  a 


70  GALLOPS    2 

dozen  people  came  to  luncheon,  and  as 
many  more  appeared  soon  after.  As  a 
natural  consequence,  a  kind  of  horse  show 
ensued  on  the  side  lawn  where  the  jumps 
were.  Among  those  who  came  was  Lamp- 
pie.  His  collar-bone  had  knit  and  his 
shoulder  was  out  of  bandages,  but  he 
wore  a  silk  handkerchief  about  his  neck 
as  a  sling  in  which  he  rested  his  arm. 
He  answered  all  inquiries  as  to  his  condi 
tion  cheerfully  and  in  detail,  but  he  seemed 
to  receive  neither  the  sympathy  nor  the 
notice  of  Miss  Heminway. 

Scott  observed  this  promptly. 

"  She  is  done  with  Lamppie,"  he  whis 
pered  to  Carteret. 

"  It  looks  that  way,"  Mr.  Carteret  an 
swered.  He  never  was  very  positive  in 
any  of  his  statements  about  Miss  Hemin- 
way's  probable  acts. 

After  the  company  had  seen  Miss  Hem-  ' 
inway's  fourteen  hunters,  and  a  new  four 
had  been  hooked  up  and  sent  around  the 
drive,  and  the  ponies  had  been  led  out,  and 
the  St.  Bernard  puppies  and  two  racoons 
and  the  Japanese  monkey,  Mr.  Lamppie 


ISABELLA  71 

cheerfully  inquired  if  there  were  not  some 
thing  more. 

"  There  is  one  more  horse,"  replied  Miss 
Heminway.  "  It  's  a  chestnut  mare.  But 
I  Ve  had  her  only  a  week,  and  I  don't 
know  whether  she  will  jump  or  not.  How 
ever,  we  can  see." 

Miss  Heminway  spoke  to  her  head  man, 
and  in  a  few  moments  a  stable-boy  came 
across  the  turf,  leading  a  good-looking, 
powerfully  made  chestnut  mare.  As  soon 
as  it  came  near,  Scott  nudged  Carteret 
with  his  elbow,  and  at  the  same  moment 
Carteret  nudged  Scott  with  his. 

"Look,"  whispered  Scott;  "they  have 
tried  to  paint  out  the  blaze  on  her  face  and 
her  two  white  stockings  in  front." 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Carteret,— his  eyes 
were  very  quick, — "and  they  have  tried 
to  sew  up  the  notch  in  her  ear." 

The  point  of  one  ear  was  drawn  to 
gether  in  an  unnatural  fashion,  and  close 
inspection  showed  that  a  piece  was 
gone  from  the  tip  and  the  edges  were 
sewed  together.  At  short  range  the 
chestnut  dye  on  the  mare's  face  and 


72  GALLOPS    2 

legs  was  apparent  to  eyes  accustomed  to 
horses. 

"  She  's  very  good-looking,"  observed 
Crewe  to  Miss  Heminway. 

"  I  like  her,"  replied  Miss  Heminway. 

"  She  's  devilish  good-looking,"  put  in 
Lamppie. 

"  The  question  is,"  said  Miss  Heminway, 
"  will  she  jump?  I  don't  want  her  to  try 
anything  high,  but  I  should  like  to  see 
her  ridden  over  the  bars  at  about  three 
feet.  Danny  Foster,"  she  continued,  "  is 
the  only  boy  at  the  stable  I  let  ride  her, 
and  he  is  away  this  afternoon,  so  that 
somebody  with  good  hands  will  have  to 
ride  her  for  me." 

There  was  a  heavy  silence. 

Miss  Heminway  looked  at  Crewe, 

"  Won't  you  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Why,"  said  Crewe,  "  I  should  be  glad 
to,  but  I  'm  ashamed  to  ride  before  Carty 
and  Scott,  who  are  distinctly  the  only  men 
present  with  truly  good  hands.  Besides, 
they  are  stopping  in  the  house,  and  riding 
your  horses  is  by  right  their — "  he  hesi 
tated  and  then  said — "privilege." 


ISABELLA  73 

"I  don't  care,"  said  Miss  Heminway; 
"only  somebody  get  up  and  ride." 

No  one  made  a  move. 

"  Come,  Carty,"  she  said  sharply,  "  ride 
the  mare  and  stop  this  nonsense.  You  are 
coy  as  a  girl  asked  to  sing." 

Carteret  pulled  his  straw  hat  over  his 
eyes  and  tapped  his  leg  thoughtfully  with 
his  ratan  stick.  "  Elizabeth,"  he  said,  " you 
are  a  superior  woman,  but  you  have  missed 
it  this  time.  In  the  first  place,  your  Titian 
red  is  very  badly  put  on,  and  your  surgery 
on  that  ear  is  abominable ;  a  seamstress 
could  do  better." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  demanded  Miss 
Heminway. 

"  Don't  try  to  force  a  poor  joke,"  said 
Mr.  Carteret,  severely. 

Miss  Heminway  turned  to  Scott. 

"Will  you  do  me  a  small  favor?"  she 
said. 

"  Anything  in  the  world,"  Scott  an 
swered,  "  except  ride  that  mare."  He 
laughed  knowingly.  A  whisper  ran  through 
the  group  of  onlookers,  and  then  a  laugh. 
Miss  Heminway  turned  her  back  upon 


74  GALLOPS    2 

both  Scott  and  Carteret  Mr.  Lamppie 
was  standing  before  her. 

"Mr.  Lamppie,"  she  said,  "  if  you  are 
not  afraid,  will  you  kindly  show  my  mare 
over  that  jump?  " 

Lamppie  bowed. 

"  I  have  only  one  good  arm,"  he  said, 
"  and  you  know  I  am  not  considered  much 
of  a  horseman  by  Carty  and  Scott,  but  I 
shall  be  truly  happy  to  try." 

He  started  for  the  horse,  and  at  the 
same  moment  Scott  and  Carteret  started 
too. 

"  Elizabeth,"  said  Mr.  Carteret,  quietly, 
"  you  must  n't  let  him  ride  that  brute. 
His  shoulder  has  only  just  healed." 

'"  Please  mind  your  own  affairs,"  said 
Miss  Heminway,  severely. 

Scott  had  rushed  forward  in  the  attempt 
to  seize  Lamppie  before  he  was  in  the 
saddle;  but,  regardless  of  what  was  sup 
posed  to  be  his  injured  arm,  he  scrambled 
up,  and  kicking  his  heels  into  the  mare, 
galloped  off. 

"  Mr.  Scott,"  called  Miss  Heminway, 
severely,  "  will  you  kindly  not  interfere 
with  Mr.  Lamppie  ?  " 


ISABELLA  75 

Scott  turned  and  meekly  rejoined  Mr. 
Carteret. 

"Look!"  exclaimed  Miss  Heminway. 

"  I  don't  care  to  look,"  said  Mr.  Carteret. 
His  back  was  turned  to  the  horse.  "  I 
don't  want  to  see  a  murder." 

But  Scott  looked.  He  saw  the  chestnut 
mare  carry  Lamppie  into  the  wings  of  the 
jump  at  an  even  canter,  clear  the  bars  in 
an  easy  manner,  and  come  jogging  back 
to  the  spectators. 

There  was  a  burst  of  applause. 

"  Has  she  killed  him?"  asked  Mr.  Car 
teret. 

"  Carty,"  said  Scott,  "  it  is  all  over  with 
us." 

Mr.  Carteret  turned  around.  Lamppie 
was  bowing  to  Miss  Heminway. 

"  Shall  I  take  her  over  again  ?  "  he  asked. 
"  She  goes  like  a  sweet  dream." 

"If  you  will,  please,"  replied  Miss  Hem 
inway. 

Mr.  Carteret  watched  the  mare  and 
Lamppie  repeat  their  performance.  He 
lighted  a  cigarette  and  inhaled  a  long  puff 
of  smoke.  "  Lamppie  wins  by  a  block," 
he  said  softly. 


76  GALLOPS    2 

"How  do  you  suppose  they  did  it?" 
said  Scott. 

Carteret's  reply  was  interrupted  by 
Lamppie.  "  I  say,  Carty,"  he  called  out, 
"  don't  you  chaps  want  a  turn  on  this 
mare?  She  's  a  lovely  ride;  nothing  to 
be  afraid  of." 

"  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you,"  said 
Mr.  Carteret.  "  I  '11  not  ride." 

"  Well,"  said  Miss  Heminway,  sweetly, 
"  if  there  are  no  more  animals  and  things 
to  be  seen,  we  might  go  in  and  have  tea." 

The  party  went  into  the  house,  but 
Carteret  and  Scott  disappeared.  They 
went  out  a  back  door  and  proceeded  to 
the  stables. 

It  happened  that  Fredericks,  Miss  Hem- 
inway's  head  man,  had  formerly  been 
employed  by  Mr.  Carteret.  Carteret  had 
given  him  up  much  as  an  orchid-fancier 
might  send  a  lady  his  choicest  air-plant. 
When  the  two  men  entered  the  stable, 
Fredericks  greeted  them  obsequiously. 
There  was  a  queer  look  in  his  eyes,  but 
he  was  very  grave  because  Carteret  was 
grave. 


ISABELLA  77 

"Fredericks,"  said  Mr.  Carteret,  "we 
want  to  see  that  mare." 

"Very  good,  sir,"  said  Fredericks,  and 
he  took  them  down  the  stable  to  a  box- 
stall.  He  opened  the  doors  and  showed 
them  the  mare.  A  stable-boy  was  scrub 
bing  her  legs  with  some  chemical  prepara 
tion,  and  they  were  becoming  white. 

"This  part  of  the  job,"  said  Carteret, 
pointing  with  his  stick  to  the  mare's  legs, 
"you  did  very  badly.  I  should  like  to 
know,  however,  how  you  got  Isabella  to 
go  so  kindly  in  so  short  a  time.  I  con 
sider  that  a  very  remarkable  achievement, 
Fredericks." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Fredericks.  He 
bowed  very  low,  and  his  cap  concealed  his 
face,  but  it  could  not  conceal  the  quivering 
of  his  large  frame.  "  I  beg  pardon,  sir,"  he 
gasped,  and  fled  out  of  the  stall,  apparently 
in  a  convulsion. 

"I  am  afraid,"  said  Scott,  "that  if 
we  were  Fredericks  we  should  feel  as  he 
does.  I  want  to  know,  though,  what  he 
used." 

Fredericks  returned  shortly,  much  mor- 


78  GALLOPS    2 

tified  and  with  many  apologies  for  his 
breach  of  manners. 

"  I  'm  goin'  to  tell  you,  sir,"  he  said,  "  if 
I  lose  me  place.  Come  this  way,  sir." 

He  led  them  to  another  box-stall,  which 
was  at  the  end  of  the  passage,  opened  the 
door,  and  stood  aside  for  them  to  pass 
through.  They  entered  the  box,  looked  at 
the  horse  before  them,  and  then  at  each 
other. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Carteret,  "it  is  easy 
when  you  know  how." 

They  were  in  the  presence  of  Isabella. 
In  shape,  size,  and  color  the  other  mare 
was  her  counterpart;  but  that  this  only 
was  Isabella  they  knew  now  by  her  eye, 
by  her  expression,  and  by  her  simplicity  of 
character.  She  was  trying  to  get  her  nose 
into  Scott's  pocket,  and  failing  in  that,  she 
nipped  his  hand  with  her  lips. 

"  She  's  too  fat,"  said  Scott.  There  was 
nothing  else  which  occurred  to  him  to 
say. 

"So  she  is,  sir,"  said  Fredericks. 

"  No  exercise,"  said  Carteret ;  "  the  dip 
lomats  gave  out." 


ISABELLA  79 

"  I  was  three  weeks  finding  that  other 
mare,"  said  Fredericks.  "  She  's  pretty 
near  a  match,  sir." 

"Did  you  cut  the  tip  of  her  ear  and 
then  sew  it  up?"  demanded  Carteret. 

"Not  I,  sir,"  said  Fredericks.  "No,  sir. 
That  was  Miss  Heminway's  friend  Dr. 
Anderson,  the  surgeon,  sir.  He  did  it  with 
instruments  and  cocaine  and  surgeon's 
needles,  sir,  and  Mr.  Lamppie  helped  him, 
and  held  the  cocaine-bottle." 

"  They  all  knew  about  it,"  said  Mr.  Car 
teret.  "Thank  you,  Fredericks,"  he  added ; 
"we  sha'n't  tell  on  you." 

They  walked  in  silence  back  to  the 
house.  At  the  door  Carteret  spoke. 

"  I  told  you,"  he  said,  "  that  Elizabeth 
Heminway  was  a  remarkable  woman." 

"You  did,"  said  Scott. 

"  I  knew  we  ought  not  to  come," 

"You  said  that,  too,"  said  Scott. 

"And  you  made  me  come,"  said  Car 
teret. 

"  I  did,"  Scott  replied. 

"Well,"  demanded  Carteret,  "what  are 
you  going  to  do  about  it  ?  " 


8o  GALLOPS    2 

"What  is  there  to  do  about  it?"  said 
Scott. 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Carteret 
tapped  his  leg  thoughtfully  with  his  ratan 
stick. 

"What  is  there  to  do  about  it?  "  Scott 
said  again. 

Carteret  made  no  answer,  but  opened  the 
door  and  went  in,  and  Scott  followed. 


CROWNINSHIELD'S   BRUSH 


Ill 
CROWNINSHIELD'S  BRUSH 

MR.  CROWNINSHIELD  left  his  wife 
talking  with  the  M.  F.  H.  and 
walked  his  horse  away  from  the  hounds, 
for  he  had  been  cautioned  that  it  kicked. 
In  doing  this  he  met  Mrs.  Palfrey,  who 
was  riding  across  the  lawn  in  the  other 
direction.  They  both  stopped. 

"  I  'm  glad  to  see  you  hunting,"  she 
said. 

"You  're  very  good,"  said  Crownin- 
shield,  dryly. 

"  And  Juggernaut,"  Mrs.  Palfrey  con 
tinued;  "how  very  fine  he  looks!  Pre 
cisely  the  right  flesh  for  hunting  condi 
tion." 

"  Is  this  Juggernaut?"  asked  Crownin- 
83 


84  GALLOPS    2 

shield.  "  I  did  n't  notice.  Maria  ordered 
it.  Lookout!  He  kicks." 

"  Oh,  no !  Juggy  would  n't  kick,  would 
he?"  said  Mrs.  Palfrey,  cheerfully,  to  the 
big  black  horse.  "  When  we  owned  him," 
she  went  on  to  Crowninshield,  "  the  only 
bad  trick  he  had  was  sulking.  He  has  a 
light  mouth,  and  if  you  fuss  it  he  '11  sulk. 
Pity,  is  n't  it,  when  he  's  such  an  unusual 
performer?  " 

Just  then  Juggernaut  let  fly  at  an  in 
quisitive  hound. 

"Oh,  naughty!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Pal 
frey. 

Crowninshield  gazed  off  toward  the 
links. 

"  It  's  a  beautiful  morning  for  golf,"  he 
said  slowly. 

Young  Mr.  Carhart,  who  had  just  joined 
them,  looked  at  him  with  wonder  and  rode 
away. 

"You  must  n't  say  such  things,"  said 
Mrs.  Palfrey.  "  The  golf  people  are  dis 
agreeable  enough  without  any  encourage 
ment.  The  first  thing  you  know  they  '11 
vote  to  give  up  the  hounds." 


CROWNINSHIELD'S    BRUSH  85 

"  I  wish  they  would,"  said  Crownin- 
shield.  "  This  hunting  bores  me.  I  don't 
like  it.  I  don't  like  to  hurry,  and  I  don't 
like  jumping  fences.  I  'm  afraid. 

"My  wife,"  he  continued,  "is  kind  to 
dumb  animals.  She  subscribes  to  an  in 
stitution  for  homeless  cats.  She  is  a  mem 
ber  of  an  anti-check-rein  association.  She 
gets  me  into  the  newspapers  by  stopping 
teamsters  who  beat  their  horses  and  mak 
ing  them  promise  to  be  gentle.  Why, 
then,"  he  demanded,  "  does  she  insist  upon 
my  hunting,  when,  if  I  were  a  tame  ape  or 
a  racoon,  my  feelings  would  be  respected 
and  I  could  stop  at  home  ?  n 

"  Well,"  observed  Mrs.  Palfrey,  "  Maria 
has  n't  confided  in  me,  but  she  probably 
wants  you  to  get  over  being  afraid.  I 
think  I  should  feel  that  way  about  Willie. 
You  see,  one  does  n't  expect  quite  so 
much  from  an  ape.  Crowny,"  she  went 
on,  "  why  don't  you  go  hard  a  few  times 
and  thrust  a  little?  Jump  some  fences 
that  will  make  her  anxious  about  you,  and 
then  you  can  retire." 

"That  might  do,"  said  Crowninshield, 


86  GALLOPS    2 

"  but  suppose  when  I  'm  thrusting  I  get 
rolled  out,  and  have  to  spend  my  season 
of  retirement  on  a  water  mattress  ?  " 

"  Of  course  there  's  that  chance,"  said 
Mrs.  Palfrey,  cheerfully,  "but  Maria  would 
make  it  up  to  you  in  devotion.  She  'd 
feel  in  a  measure  responsible  for  the  acci 
dent." 

"  Perhaps,"  said  Crowninshield.  The 
suggestion  was  apparently  occupying  his 
mind,  and  he  said  nothing  more. 

Presently  the  M.  F.  H.  started  down 
the  road,  with  the  hounds  behind  him, 
and  Mrs.  Crowninshield  rode  up. 

"  He  's  going  to  draw  the  Benton 
woods,"  she  said.  "There  's  a  fox  there. 
They  saw  it  this  morning  and  stopped  the 
earth.  Harrison,"  she  observed  to  Mr. 
Crowninshield,  "  keep  close  to  Donahue  " 
—  he  was  the  first  whip — "  till  we  get  out 
in  the  open.  There  's  a  good  deal  of 
trappy  country  to  the  west  of  the  woods, 
and  Donahue  knows  it  better  than  any 
one  else." 

"Thank  you  very  much,  Maria,"  said 
Crowninshield.  "  If  you  are  in  doubt 


CROWNINSHIELD'S  BRUSH         87 

about  the  country  you  may  follow  Dona 
hue  or  any  one  else,  as  you  see  fit.  I  in 
tend  to  ride  my  own  line." 

Mrs.  Crowninshield  looked  at  her  hus 
band  with  surprise. 

"You  've  hurt  his  feelings,"  said  Mrs. 
Palfrey,  "and  he  '11  probably  do  some 
thing  foolish  and  break  his  neck." 

"  I  think  I  can  trust  his  sober  second 
thought,"  said  Mrs.  Crowninshield,  but 
plainly  she  was  a  little  worried.  After  a 
moment  she  rode  up  beside  her  husband. 
"  Are  you  angry  with  me  ? "  she  asked 
meekly.  She  was  a  very  pretty  young 
woman,  and  when  she  looked  meek  she 
was  especially  pretty. 

",No,"  he  said. 

"  Then  why  don't  you  look  pleasant  and 
smile?"  she  asked. 

"  Maria,"  said  Crowninshield,  "  you  are 
a — "  He  stopped  and  looked  at  her 
sternly  and  rode  ahead. 

Mrs.  Crowninshield  turned  to  Mrs.  Pal 
frey.  "What  ideas  have  you  been  put 
ting  in  his  head?"  she  demanded.  "I 
.don't  want  him  to  kill  himself.  I  have  been 


88  GALLOPS    2 

trying  to  get  him  to  like  it,  and  to  go  along 
respectably.  But  now  his  temper  is  stirred 
up,  and  he  may  do  something  absurd." 

She  rode  after  him,  but,  as  Mrs.  Palfrey 
could  see,  he  repelled  her  advances  with  a 
dignified  silence. 

The  covert  into  which  the  hounds  were 
taken  was  a  big  oblong  wood  lot,  with  a 
board  fence  across  the  farther  end  and  wire 
fences  on  the  other  three  sides.  They  went 
in  through  a  gate  which  the  farmer  un 
locked  for  them. 

"This  is  a  bad  place  to  get  out  of," said 
the  M.  F.  H.  to  the  two  ladies.  "The 
hounds  will  probably  work  down  toward 
the  board  fence,  but  we  Ve  got  to  go  out 
over  it  whichever  line  the  fox  may  take. 
We  can't  get  over  the  wire." 

He  rode  off  and  began  casting  through 
a  bottom  covered  with  tall  dead  weeds.  As 
the  first  hound  entered  the  undergrowth 
a  fox  scurried  out  and  went  away  through 
the  woods.  "Gone  away!  "  yelled  the 
whips.  In  a  moment  the  pack  was  on  the 
line  and  gave  tongue  riotously,  and  fox, 
hounds,  and  horses  were  off.  The  field 


CROWNINSHIELD'S  BRUSH         89 

crashed  through  the  woods,  down  the  steep 
banks  of  a  little  stream,  up  again,  and  on 
toward  the  board  fence.  Mrs.  Crownin- 
shield  was  riding  Ten  Pin,  who  was  an  ex 
citable  brute,  and  took  hold  pretty  hard  at 
the  beginning  of  the  day.  She  reached  the 
boards  among  the  first  and  went  over.  As 
she  landed  she  looked  back  through  the 
thick  growth  of  saplings  and  saw  Jugger 
naut  coming  along.  She  pulled  up  as  much 
as  she  could  in  the  hope  of  seeing  him 
jump,  but  her  horse  began  going  sidewise 
through  a  thicket,  and  made  it  impossible 
for  her  to  look  back.  However,  she  lis 
tened,  and  heard  no  sound  of  broken 
boards,  which  indicated  that  Mr.  Crownin- 
shield  was  over  without  accident.  Then 
Ten  Pin  put  his  head  down  and  bored 
away  for  half  a  field,  and  this  for  the  time 
being  put  Mr.  Crowninshield  out  of  her 
thoughts. 

The  fox  was  still  in  view,  and  the  pace 
was  as  fast  as  the  hounds  could  make  it. 
There  was  every  promise  of  an  exceptionally 
good  day.  Presently  the  fox  began  to 
swing  in  a  wide  circle,  and  treated  the  hunt 


90  GALLOPS    2 

to  some  of  the  biggest  country  in  that 
part  of  the  State.  A  new  picket  fence  not 
much  less  than  five  feet  high  was  followed 
by  a  stiff  in-and-out  across  a  narrow  lane. 
Then  there  was  a  big  rail  fence  with  a  ditch 
on  the  take-off  side.  The  first  whip  went 
down  at  this,  and  those  who  got  over  had 
a  grateful  feeling  toward  the  horses  that 
were  carrying  them.  At  a  stone  wall  the 
M.  F.  H.'s  mount  made  a  mistake,  and 
the  M.  F.  H.  was  left  ignominiously  chas 
ing  his  horse  and  shouting  "Whoa!"  A 
series  of  stiff  post-and-rail  obstacles  fol 
lowed,  which  thinned  out  the  field  still 
more. 

.  Ten  Pin  was  still  pulling,  and  Mrs. 
Crowninshield  had  not  much  opportunity 
to  look  around  for  her  husband,  though 
she  thought  about  him  several  times. 
There  was  a  man  on  a  big  black  horse 
riding  his  own  line  half  a  field  ahead  of 
her  and  some  distance  to  the  right.  She 
was  somewhat  near-sighted,  and  could  not 
make  out  who  the  man  might  be,  but  her 
judgment  told  her  that  it  was  not  Mr. ; 
Crowninshield,  although  the  horse  looked 


CROWNINSHIELD'S  BRUSH        91 

like  Juggernaut.  "  I  don't  think  Jugger 
naut  could  hold  this  pace,  even  if  Harrison 
wanted  to,"  she  added  mentally,  to  assure 
herself. 

They  went  at  a  line  of  new  rails,  and 
Ten  Pin  pecked  badly,  but  she  kept  him  up. 

"Careful,  there!"  called  the  M.  F.  H., 
who  had  caught  his  horse  and  had  come 
up,  cheerful  but  out  of  breath.  "  Nice 
run,  is  n't  it?  It  won't  last  much  longer," 
he  panted.  "The  fox  is  making  for  the 
woods  where  we  found  him.  The  pace  is 
too  hot.  We  ought  to  kill  there.  The 
earth  is  stopped ;  we  've  gone  around  in  a 
circle." 

"Have  you  seen  Harrison?"  Mrs. 
Crowninshield  asked. 

"  No,"  said  the  M.  F.  H.,  "  I  have  n't. 
I  lost  my  glasses  at  the  beginning,  and  you 
know  I  can't  see  much  without  them.  I  'm 
sure  he  's  all  right,  though."  The  M.  F.  H. 
felt  justified  in  his  confidence  by  a  long 
acquaintance  with  Mr.  Crowninshield,  and 
with  his  repugnance  to  all  forms  of  violent 
exertion.  "Look  out  ahead!"  he  added. 

The  hounds  swung  sharply  to  the.  left, 


92  x  GALLOPS    2 

and  disappeared  in  a  piece  of  thick  woods. 
The  field  followed  over  a  rail  fence,  and 
the  next  minute  encountered  a  thicket  of 
wild-grape  vines,  which  took  young  Car- 
hart  off  his  horse  and  made  the  others  pull 
up  to  disentangle  themselves.  When  they 
got  into  the  open  again  the  hounds  were 
vanishing  over  the  crest  of  a  little  hill. 

"  Hurry,"  called  the  M.  F.  H.  to  Mrs. 
Crowninshield,  "or  we  shall  lose  them." 
She  urged  Ten  Pin  with  the  whip,  and  they 
swept  up  the  hill  with  a  handful,  all  that 
was  left  of  the  field,  behind  them.  From 
the  top  they  saw  the  tail  hounds  a  field 
ahead  going  under  the  wire  fence  into  the 
covert  where  they  had  found  half  an  hour 
before,  and  a  man  on  a  black  horse  disap 
pearing  after  them  into  the  woods. 

"Good  Lord,"  exclaimed  the  M.  F.  H., 
"somebody  's  jumped  that  barbed-wire 
fence!  Who  is  it?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  Mrs.  Crowninshield 
called  back.  "I  can't  make  out."  The 
black  horse  looked  to  her  like  Juggernaut, 
but  she  tried  to  put  that  idea  out  of  her 
head.  She  was  worried  none  the  less. 


CROWNINSHIELD'S  BRUSH        93 

Carhart  was  behind  her,  and  she  could 
not  think  of  any  one  else  absent-minded 
enough  to  jump  barbed  wire. 

"  We  '11  have  to  go  around  to  the  other 
end  where  the  boards  are,"  called  the  M. 
F.  H.,  and  he  used  his  spurs.  "  If  the  fox 
gets  through  the  covert  and  breaks  away 
again,  perhaps  we  '11  make  up  our  lost 
ground." 

As  they  galloped  along  the  edge  of  the 
covert  they  could  faintly  hear  the  hubbub 
of  the  hounds  deep  in  the  wood.  Sud 
denly  it  stopped. 

"  They  must  have  killed,"  said  the  M.  F. 
H.  He  turned  around  the  corner  of  the 
wood  lot,  straightened  out  his  horse  at  the 
board  fence,  and  went  over.  The  others 
followed,  and  galloping  through  the  woods 
they  came  upon  the  pack  jumping  ex 
citedly  about  the  figure  of  a  man  for  a 
brown  thing  which  he  held  high  above 
them.  When  they  came  closer  they  could 
see  that  the  man  was  Mr.  Crowninshield. 
He  was  trying  to  keep  off  the  hounds  and 
to  cut  off  the  brush  at  the  same  time,  which 
was  a  difficult  thing  to  do. 


94  GALLOPS    2 

"  It  was  Harrison,  after  all,"  murmured 
Mrs.  Crowninshield,  and  grew  extremely 
white. 

When  Crowninshield  saw  the  M.  F.  H., 
he  paused  with  the  knife  in  one  hand  and 
the  fox's  corpse  in  the  other.  "I  suppose 
I  ought  not  to  be  cutting  this  creature  up," 
he  said.  "  Does  n't  it  violate  hunting  eti 
quette  ?  But  the  proper  official  was  n't  on 
hand."  He  smiled  blandly. 

The  M.  F.  H.  said  nothing.  He  was  get 
ting  his  breath  and  taking  in  the  situation. 
Besides,  there  was  nothing  to  say. 
,'  Just  then  Carhart  rode  up  and  regarded 
Crowninshield  solemnly  for  several  mo 
ments.  Then  he  dismounted,  went  over 
to  him,  and  held  out  his  hand.  "  You  go 
too  hard  for  me,"  he  said. 

"  It  was  luck,"  said  Crowninshield,  mod 
estly. 

But  Carhart  shook  his  head  and  turned 
away.  He  was  deeply  impressed. 

While  Carhart  was  paying  this  tribute  to 
Crowninshield,  his  wife  recovered  from  her 
agitation,  and  began  examining  Jugger 
naut's  legs  for  traces  of  barbed  wire.  Her 


CROWNINSHIELD'S  BRUSH         95 

inspection  proved  that  the  horse  had  es 
caped  without  a  scratch.  "  He  always  was 
such  a  clean  performer,"  she  murmured. 
Suddenly  a  look  of  wonder  came  into  her 
face.  She  went  close  to  the  horse  and  put 
her  hand  upon  its  neck.  Then  she  turned 
toward  Crowninshield  and  regarded  him 
curiously. 

In  the  meantime  the  M.  F.  H.  had  got 
his  breath. 

"  I  'm  going  to  give  your  husband," 
said  he,  "a  short  lecture  on  fox-hunting. 
Crowny,"  he  went  on,  drawing  up  along 
side  of  Mr.  Crowninshield,  "  you  Ve  won 
the  right  to  membership  in  the  idiots'  club, 
of  which  Carhart  is  the  president.  But 
don't  jump  any  more  wire  fences,  particu 
larly  after  half  an  hour's  hard  galloping. 
A  gentleman  should  have  some  regard  for 
his  horse.  Besides,  we  don't  want  to  stop 
hunting  to  attend  funerals." 

"  All  right,"  said  Crowninshield ;  "I  will 
reform,"  and  a  twinkle  came  into  his  eye. 
"I  say,"  he  added,  "how  about  this 
brush?" 

"  No  one  ever  won  a  brush  more  hon- 


96  GALLOPS    2 

estly,"  said  the  M.  F.  H.  Then  he  turned 
away  and  began  calling  the  hounds. 

One  by  one  the  field  straggled  in  and 
heard  about  Crowninshield's  exploit  and 
congratulated  him.  He  bore  it  with  mod 
esty  and  composure. 

"  Are  n't  you  a  little  proud  of  him  ?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Palfrey  of  Mrs.  Crowninshield. 

Mrs.  Crowninshield  nodded,  but  sup 
pressed  her  pride  admirably. 

"  I  am  going  to  confess,"  Mrs.  Palfrey 
continued,  "  that  I  suggested  to  Harrison 
that  he  should  try  going  a  bit  hard.  I 
knew  he  would  enjoy  it  more  if  he  did.  But 
I  really  did  n't  expect  him  to  do  this." 

"  Really  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Crowninshield, 
coldly  ;  and  Mrs.  Palfrey  moved  away  and 
joined  Carhart. 

"  Maria  does  n't  know  exactly  what  to 
make  of  it,"  she  whispered. 

"  No,"  said  Carhart ;  "  very  curious  that 
he  should  never  have  let  himself  out  be 
fore." 

"  It  is,"  said  Mrs.  Palfrey.  "  There  go 
the  hounds,"  she  added,  and  they  followed 
them  out  to  the  road. 


CROWNINSHIELD'S  BRUSH         97 

Most  of  the  field  went  back  to  the  club, 
where  they  lunched  together  in  their  rid 
ing  things,  an  occasion  which  took  the 
form  of  an  ovation  to  Crowninshield.  They 
toasted  him  and  congratulated  him,  and  he 
charmed  them  with  the  sincere  modesty 
with  which  he  deprecated  his  exploit. 
Finally  they  called  upon  him  for  a  speech. 

"  Tell  us  how,  being  a  mere  golfer,"  said 
the  M.  F.  H.,  "you  happened  to  do  it." 

"  I  will,"  said  Crowninshield.  He  rose 
to  his  feet  and  produced  the  brush  from 
his  coat  pocket.  "  The  principle  which  I 
employed  in  obtaining  this  coveted  trophy 
is  the  one  laid  down  by  Napoleon  as  the 
first  rule  of  war,  (  Be  at  the  right  place  at 
the  right  time.' " 

There  were  cries  of  "  Good!"  from  Mc 
Millan,  who  had  been  lunching  heartily 
upon  liquids  and  was  somewhat  over- 
appreciative. 

"  But  how  did  you  happen  to  be  there  ?  " 
asked  the  M.  F.  H.  "  How  did  you  get 
over  that  wire  fence  ?  " 

There  was  a  pause,  and  Crowninshield 
smiled  modestly. 


98  GALLOPS    2 

"  I  did  n't  get  over  it,"  he  said.  "  7 
was  there.  I  was  there  all  the  time  !  " 

"  Most  extraordinary ! "  gasped  McMil 
lan,  and  became  hysterical. 

"  Go  on,"  said  the  M.  F.  H.,  when  he 
could  be  heard. 

"  It  was  very  simple,"  said  Crownin- 
shield.  "Juggernaut  balked  at  that  first 
board  fence,  and  I  could  n't  get  him  out 
of  the  field.  I  must  have  fussed  his  mouth 
and  his  disposition.  The  gate  was  locked 
and  the  farmer  who  had  the  key  was  fol 
lowing  the  hunt  in  a  buggy.  So  I  had  to 
wait.  In  about  half  an  hour  the  hounds 
came  along  and  I  joined  in." 

"  Crowninshield,"  said  the  M.  F.  H., 
with  the  first  voice  that  he  could  command, 
"  you  have  made  this  a  happy  day.  You 
are  entitled  to  your  brush." 

Crowninshield  bowed  and  beat  a  retreat 
to  the  smoking-room.  He  had  not  been 
there  very  long  before  a  servant  told  him 
that  Mrs.  Crowninshield  had  ordered  the 
trap  and  was  ready  to  go  home. 

"  All  right,"  said  Crowninshield.  He 
rose  at  once,  which  was  not  his  custom, 


CROWNINSHIELD'S    BRUSH  99 

throwing  his  cigar  into  the  fire.  The  fact 
was  that  he  was  uneasy  about  facing  Mrs. 
Crowninshield  alone,  she  took  hunting  so 
seriously.  He  would  have  been  as  well 
pleased  to  have  her  drive  home  by  herself 
and  send  the  cart  back  for  him. 

As  they  drove  away  from  the  club  me 
chanically  she  took  the  reins,  and  then,  as 
if  recollecting  herself,  she  gave  them  to 
her  husband.  "  You  drive,"  she  said. 

He  looked  puzzled,  for  she  usually 
drove,  but  he  did  as  she  asked. 

"Well,"  he  said  seriously,  after  a  long 
pause, "  I  suppose  you  're  ashamed  of  me  ?" 

She  shook  her  head  and  smiled.  "  No," 
she  answered. 

Crowninshield  looked  at  her  curiously. 
Her  lip  quivered  a  little.  "  Did  n't  you 
think  better  of  me,"  he  asked,  "  when  you 
believed  that  I  had  jumped  that  wire 
fence?" 

"  No,"  she  said.  <(  Because  "—she  hesi 
tated  a  moment — "  I  knew  you  had  n't 
jumped  it." 

He  looked  her  in  the  face.  "  You  knew 
it  ?  "  he  said  slowly.  "  How  ?  " 


ioo  GALLOPS    2 

"  Yes,"  she  answered.  "  You  see,  the 
other  horses  were  wet,  and  Juggernaut 
had  n't  turned  a  hair." 

There  was  a  long  pause. 

"  Suppose  I  had  n't  told  ?  "  he  suggested 
in  a  low  voice. 

She  reached  out  her  hand  and  placed  it 
upon  his  knee.  "But  you  did,"  she  said. 


TING-A-LING 


IV 

TING-A-LING 

THEY  were  sitting  on  the  balcony 
which  distinguished  the  bridal  suite, 
in  the  sun  of  the  June  morning.  Below 
was  the  main  street,  animated  mildly  with 
the  shopping  of  a  dormant  New  England 
community.  A  few  ancient  carriages,  reli 
quaries  of  the -first  families,  mingled  with 
the  buggies  and  the  delivery-wagons,  and 
at  dignified  intervals  a  horse-car  jingled 
past  and  disappeared  in  the  vista  of 
elms. 

"  It  's  ten  minutes  past  eleven,"  he  ob 
served,  looking  at  his  watch.  "  We  have 
five  hours  to  wait  for  the  four-ten  train, 
but  I  believe  we  dine  at  twelve." 

"Are  you  hungry?"  she  asked.  "I 
103 


104  GALLOPS    2 

dare  say  we  could  get  something  even  be 
fore  dinner  —  perhaps  a  pie." 

They  both  laughed.  "  This  is  an  awful 
place,"  he  said,  "  is  n't  it?  No  more  his 
toric  New  England  for  me." 

They  leaned  lazily  upon  the  balcony 
rail,  and  sat  with  their  heads  together, 
looking  down  into  the  street.  A  grocer's 
clerk  was  putting  things  into  a  wagon,  and 
they  wondered  who  was  going  to  have 
asparagus,  and  how  big  a  family  it  might 
be  which  needed  six  quarts  of  strawberries. 
Presently,  with  the  noises  of  the  street, 
came  the  jingling  of  the  periodic  horse- 
car,  and  they  turned  and  watched  it  ap 
proach. 

"That  is  not  a  bad-looking  horse,"  he 
said  judicially. 

"Look!"  she  exclaimed.  There  was  a 
note  of  pity  and  indignation  in  her  voice. 
The  car,  as  it  drew  near,  appeared  to  bulge 
with  passengers. 

"  It  's  rather  a  joke,"  he  said.  "  Those 
are  women  delegates  to  the  Society  for  the 
Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals  conven 
tion." 


TING-A-LING  105 

"It  's  shameful,"  she  said. 

The  car  stopped  on  the  corner  in  front 
of  the  hotel  for  another  passenger  to  worm 
himself  into  the  jam  on  the  rear  platform. 
The  horse,  a  big,  showy  chestnut,  stood 
panting,  his  nostrils  red  and  dilated.  His 
neck  was  white  with  lather.  Wet  streaks 
extended  up  his  ears.  His  body  dripped, 
and  the  sweat  was  running  down  his  legs. 

As  the  two  strokes  of  the  conductor's 
bell  gave  the  signal  to  start,  he  plunged 
forward  almost  before  the  driver  had 
loosened  the  brakes.  There  was  a  clatter 
of  hoofs  on  the  cobblestones,  and  a  mighty 
straining.  The  heavy  car  began  to  move, 
and  the  chestnut  horse  went  trotting  down 
the  street,  tail  up  and  neck  arched  like  a 
cavalry  horse  on  parade. 

"  He  's  game,"  he  said. 

She  put  her  hand  on  his  arm.  "  I  can't 
bear  to  see  it,"  she  whispered. 

He  looked  down  at  her.  Her  eyes  were 
brimming. 

"Don't  be  a  little  goose,"  he  said 
gently ;  but  there  was  a  queer  feeling  in 
his  throat.  He  rose  to  his  feet.  "  I  '11  be 


106  GALLOPS    2 

back  in  a  few  minutes,"  he  added.  "  I 
want  to  go  down  to  the  office."  He  bent 
down  and  kissed  her,  and  left  the  balcony. 

She  waited  half  an  hour,  and  then  went 
down  to  the  corridor.  He  was  not  at  the 
office.  She  decided  to  go  out.  As  she  was 
on  the  hotel  steps,  she  met  him  coming  in, 
and  at  the  same  moment  a  coach-horn 
sounded,  and  they  saw  a  coach  and  four 
come  around  the  corner. 

He  looked  back.  "O  Lord!"  he  ex 
claimed,  "  we  're  caught.  There  's  your 
brother,  and  the  Appleton  girls,  and  Frank 
Crewe,  and  Winthrop,  and  most  of  your 
bridesmaids.  I  suppose  they  are  on  their 
way  to  Lenox." 

"What  shall  we  do?"  she  asked. 

A  great  uproar  arose  from  the  people 
on  the  coach. 

"Hello!"  said  Curtis. 

"Hello!"  yelled  the  people  on  the 
coach.  Mr.  Crewe  got  possession  of  the 
horn  and  produced  fragments  of  the  "  Lo 
hengrin  Wedding  March."  The  people  in 
the  street  and  the  hangers-on  about  the 
hotel  began  to  gather  around. 


TING-A-LING  107 

Her  brother  waved  his  hand  from  the 
coach.  "Well,"  he  said,  "how  are  you 
getting  on?  Quarreled  yet?  I  am  sorry, 
but  we  are  completely  out  of  rice." 

"  I  don't  understand,"  said  Curtis,  look 
ing  at  the  crowd  in  dismay.  "  This  is  a 
beautiful  country,  Willie.  Historic  battle 
fields  and  all  that  sort  of  thing;  besides, 
they  breed  some  good  horses  all  about 
here.  We  have  been  picking  up  one  or 
two." 

"  For  the  bride!"  called  Winthrop,  and 
he  generously  threw  her  an  enormous 
bunch  of  wild  roses  which  Crewe  that 
morning  had  patiently  pulled  from  the 
roadside  bushes  at  the  cost  of  no  small 
suffering,  and  had  presented  to  the  elder 
Appleton  girl. 

Curtis  ignored  the  episode.  His  eye  at 
that  moment  caught  a  stable-boy  leading 
a  big  chestnut  horse  toward  the  hotel. 
"  Here  's  one  we  've  just  bought,"  he  said. 
"  I  think  he  's  likely  to  make  a  jumper." 
He  felt  his  hand,  which  was  behind  him, 
squeezed  surreptitiously,  and  he  was  aware 
of  beaming  somewhat  foolishly.  He  was 


io8  GALLOPS    2 

glad  that  the  people  on  the  coach  had 
turned  their  attention  to  the  horse. 

"Where  did  you  find  that?"  asked 
Winthrop. 

Curtis  hesitated  a  moment.  "  Over  that 
way,"  he  said  vaguely,  waving  his  hand 
over  an  arc  which  extended  from  east  to 
west.  "  It  's  a  great  country  for  horses." 

Her  brother  had  been  inspecting  the 
horse  in  silence.  "  My  son,"  he  said  to 
the  stable-boy,  "  how  did  you  gall  that 
race-horse's  shoulder?" 

"  That  's  a  collar-mark,"  said  the  boy. 
"  Pulling  a  street-car  is  hard  work." 

Peals  of  laughter  came  from  the  coach. 

"You  need  n't  laugh,"  said  the  boy. 
"He  's  a  horse  all  right." 

She  had  moved  to  the  horse's  head. 
"  I  believe  you,"  she  said  to  the  boy. 
"He  'sgame." 

"  He  is,  ma'am,"  said  the  boy. 

"Well,  Ting-a-ling,"  said  her  brother, 
addressing  the  chestnut  horse,  "  we  can't 
stop  to  admire  you  all  day.  "  You  're 
not  a  bad-looking  horse,  but  if  you  are  a 
street-car  horse,  as  unfortunately  you  are, 


TING-A-LING  109 

you  have  the  nature  that  will  jump  until 
you  get  tired,  and  then  you  '11  roll  over 
things,  and  make  my  sister  an  attractive 
widow.  I  would  n't  have  you  at  any 
price." 

"Then  everybody  is  satisfied,"  said 
Curtis. 

"  I  am,"  she  said.  She  gave  him  a  little 
look  that  meant  that  she  was  satisfied  with 
him,  and  Curtis  felt  that  he  was  beaming 
again.  He  turned  away. 

The  horse  began  to  rub  his  nose  against 
her  arm  and  sniffed. 

"  He  's  looking  for  sugar,"  said  the  boy. 
"  I  give  it  to  him  sometimes." 

"You  are  a  very  nice  boy,"  she  said. 
"What  's  your  name?" 

"Tim,"  said  the  boy. 

"  Let  's  have  him  take  the  horse  down 
for  us,"  she  said  to  her  husband.  "We 
might  keep  him,  too." 

"  All  right,"  he  said.  "  But  let  's  get 
out  of  this  crowd."  They  slipped  away 
and  hurried  around  the  block. 

"You  were  good  to  get  him,"  she  said 
in  a  low  tone.  "  The  way  he  acted  made 


no  GALLOPS    2 

me  feel  that  he  was  n't  meant  for  street 
car  work.  What  shall  we  call  him?" 

"I  am  afraid  that  brother  Willie  has 
already  named  him,"  he  answered. 

"What?"  she  demanded. 

"  Ting-a-ling,"  he  replied. 

"  But  he  ought  to  be  called  Sultan  or 
Emperor,  or  something  like  that,"  she  in 
sisted. 

"  You  and  I,"  he  said,  "  we  know  what 
a  heart  he  has;  but,  after  all,  he  is  a 
street-car  horse.  We  'd  better  accept  the 
facts." 

"Well,  then  it 's  Ting-a-ling,"  she  said. 

IT  was  November;  three  years  had 
slipped  away.  The  race  for  the  Hunt 
Club  cup  was  coming  off  in  the  afternoon, 
and  everybody  was  lunching  at  the  club. 
She  was  patiently  chaperoning  the  elder 
Appleton  girl  and  Frank  Crewe  at  a  table 
on  the  glass-closed  veranda  overlooking 
the  polo-field. 

"  We  '11  give  you  some  lunch,"  she  said 
to  Winthrop,  who  was  passing. 

"  I  'm  with  Willie,"  he  answered. 


TING-A-LING  in 

"Willie  can  come  too,"  she  said. 

He  thanked  her  and  sat  down. 

"  Is  Ting-a-ling  pretty  fit?  "  he  asked. 

"I  think  so,"  she  replied;  "but  of 
course  he  's  never  been  steeplechased,  so 
we  don't  know  what  he  can  do." 

"  He  is  certainly  a  good  horse  to 
hounds,"  said  Winthrop. 

"  He  's  never  been  down,"  she  said. 

"  Please  don't  say  that  on  the  day  of 
the  race,"  he  interrupted ;  "  it 's  unlucky." 

Just  then  Willie  joined  them. 

"  Still  talking  steeplechase,"  he  ob 
served.  "  I  suppose  your  husband  is 
going  to  win." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  she  an 
swered;  "but  he  '11  beat  you." 

"  I  '11  bet  he  won't,"  he  retorted.  "  It 's 
a  sure  thing.  I  am  not  going  to  ride. 
They  tell  me  that  I  am  too  fat,  but  that 
is  n't  the  reason.  I  am  afraid.  Hello! 
here  's  the  steeplechase  jockey,"  he  said  to 
Curtis,  who  came  in.  "  Have  you  provided 
liberally  for  me  in  your  will  ?  Have  n't  I 
always  been  a  good  brother-in-law?" 

"Always,"  said  Curtis,  "and  no  doubt 


112  GALLOPS    2 

you  need  the  money ;  but  I  am  not  mak 
ing  wills  to-day." 

"  You  'd  better,"  said  Willie,  cheerfully. 
"  I  'd  hate  to  have  that  street-car  horse 
roll  you  out  and  have  no  other  consolation 
than  the  thought  that  you  had  loved  me." 
His  tone  became  less  playful.  "  Bequeath 
me  my  nephew,  and  your  widow  can  take 
the  property." 

"  If  that  blessed  boy  of  yours,"  Crewe 
said  to  Mrs.  Curtis,  "  is  n't  ruined  by  the 
indulgence  of  his  foolish  old  uncle,  I  shall 
be  much  surprised." 

"  Taisez-vous!  "  retorted  Willie,  "  and 
get  a  nephew  of  your  own." 

Winthrop  turned  to  Curtis.  "  How  has 
the  horse  shown  in  his  training?  "  he  asked. 

"  He  rates  pretty  well,  and  I  have  a 
good  deal  of  confidence  in  his  jumping," 
Curtis  answered.  "  He  's  rather  a  pet,  you 
know,  so  that  perhaps  my  judgment  is 
prejudiced." 

"  He  '11  go  until  he  gets  tired,"  put  in 
Willie,  "  and  then  he  '11  shut  up  and  go 
through  his  fences.  Those  big  half-breds 
are  all  alike." 


TING-A-LING  113 

"  How  do  you  know  he  's  a  half-bred?  " 
said  Curtis. 

"  I  don't  know  that  he  is  anything," 
Willie  retorted.  "  You  got  him  out  of  a 
street-car." 

"  I  think  we  would  better  change  the 
subject,"  said  his  sister;  "you  're  becom 
ing  disagreeable.  Remember,"  she  added 
to  the  party,  "  you  are  all  coming  in  this 
evening  to  play  bridge.  You  can't  come 
to  dinner,  because  the  cook  is  sick." 

FROM  the  hill  back  of  the  club-house  they 
watched  the  race.  A  horse  of  Winthrop's, 
with  Crewe  up,  made  the  running  for  the 
first  mile.  Then  Curtis  took  Ting-a-ling 
out  of  the  bunch,  and  went  away  appa 
rently  without  effort.  At  the  two-mile 
flag  Curtis  was  a  hundred  yards  in  the 
lead.  The  other  horses  seemed  to  be 
racing  for  the  place. 

"  He  seems  to  have  things  all  his  own 
way,"  said  Winthrop  to  Mrs.  Curtis.  "  My 
horse  is  done." 

"  He  is  going  well,"  she  whispered. 
She  was  very  much  excited. 


114  GALLOPS    2 

Toward  the  middle  of  the  third  mile  the 
four  horses  that  were  running  in  the  second 
flight  drew  up,  and  it  became  a  race  again. 
Her  heart  almost  stopped  beating.  "  Is 
he  tiring?  "  she  murmured.  The  five  went 
at  the  board  fence  near  the  third-mile  flag 
in  a  bunch.  As  they  took  off,  there  was 
crowding  on  the  outside.  Then  four  horses 
jumped  cleanly;  one  fell,  and  the  four 
went  on  again. 

A  rustle  of  apprehension  ran  through 
the  crowd. 

"Who  's  down?"  exclaimed  the  elder 
Appleton  girl  in  a  low  tone. 

"  Is  he  hurt?  "  said  her  sister. 

"It  's  Ting-a-ling!"  murmured  Mrs. 
Curtis. 

The  horse  got  up,  and  galloped  riderless 
after  the  leaders.  A  moment  later  the 
rider  got  up  and  started  across  the  field 
on  foot. 

"  He  's  not  hurt,"  said  Winthrop.  "  I  'm 
awful  sorry.  He  would  have  won." 

"  That 's  good  of  you,"  she  replied.  But 
she  suspected  that  he  was  only  softening 
the  bitterness  of  the  disappointment. 


TING-A-LING  115 

Willie  was  right.  The  horse  ran  himself 
tired  and  stopped.  She  felt  that  she  was 
very  white  and  made  an  effort  to  talk. 
"  That  's  your  horse  ahead  with  Frank 
Crewe,"  she  said;  "he  's  got  the  race." 

It  was  so,  and  the  crowd  was  already 
surging  down  to  the  finish-flags  to  con 
gratulate  the  winner.  Mrs.  Curtis  drove 
her  cart  across  the  meadow  to  meet  the 
dismounted  rider. 

Their  eyes  met  as  she  pulled  up. 

"  It  's  too  bad,"  she  said.  "  Are  you 
hurt?" 

"  I  think  my  collar-bone  is  gone,"  he 
answered.  "  I  '11  see  Tim  and  send  the 
horse  home,  and  then  I  '11  go  to  the  club 
and  get  bandaged." 

He  gave  his  orders  to  the  boy. 

"  You  was  fouled,  sir,"  said  Tim.  He 
was  much  excited.  "  I  seen  Mr.  Crewe 
pull  across  you  about  two  lengths  from 
the  fence." 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Curtis,  shortly. 
"  Walk  him  home  at  once  and  do  him  up." 

"Is  it  so?  "she  asked.  "Were  you 
fouled?" 


ii6  GALLOPS    2 

"  I  don't  think  I  'd  say  it,"  he  answered. 
"  I  rode  very  badly.  It  was  my  fault.  I 
should  n't  have  pulled  back  into  the 
crowd." 

She  said  nothing.  She  saw  that  he  was 
very  much  disappointed.  But  the  hardest 
for  her  to  bear  was  that  her  confidence  in 
Ting-a-ling  was  gone. 

At  the  club-house  Willie  was  on  the 
veranda. 

"  I  am  awfully  sorry,"  he  said.  "  But, 
seriously,  you  had  better  shoot  that  horse. 
You  '11  not  be  so  lucky  another  time." 

Curtis  looked  up  angrily  to  reply,  and 
then  turned  away  with  his  lips  tightly 
closed. 

"  I  '11  be  ready  in  half  an  hour,"  he  said 
to  his  wife. 

In  rather  less  than  that  time  he  came 
from  his  dressing-room,  his  arm  in  ban 
dages  and  the  hand  in  a  sling.  He  sent 
for  his  trap,  and  found  Mrs.  Curtis  in  the 
tea-room. 

"  I  think  we  had  better  go,"  he  said. 
"  They  have  just  telephoned  from  the 
house,  saying  the  baby  is  n't  very  well.  I 


TING-A-LING  117 

told  the  doctor  to  come  along  as  soon  as 
he  could.  Don't  say  anything  to  Willie 
about  the  little  chap,"  he  added.  "  He  '11 
tag  along  and  make  a  fuss  and  irritate 
me." 

She  rose  and  followed  him.  The  trap 
was  at  the  door,  and  they  drove  away. 

Earlier,  the  November  afternoon  had 
been  flooded  with  a  damp  sunshine,  and 
there  had  been  a  still  and  unnatural  mild 
ness  in  the  air.  Toward  four,  as  they  left 
the  club,  the  sky  became  overcast,  and 
out  of  the  west  a  mass  of  blue-black  cloud 
began  to  rise  and  stretch  across  the  ho 
rizon.  Soon  it  threw  the  western  part  of 
the  plain  and  the  hills  beyond  into  dark 
ness.  Overhead  it  was  still  light,  but  the 
shadow  drew  on  and  began  to  chill  the 
day. 

Curtis  looked  apprehensively  toward  the 
west  and  touched  the  horse  with  the  whip. 
His  wife  had  the  reins. 

"  It  *s  growing  colder,"  she  said. 

He  bent  forward  and  tucked  the  robe 
about  her  feet. 

Uncertain    drafts   of   wind   rattled  the 


ii8  GALLOPS    2 

brown  leaves  on  the  oaks  and  made  the 
dead  goldenrods  along  the  roadside  bow 
excitedly. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  we  are  going  to  get 
wet,"  he  said. 

The  gusts  became  stronger.  The  black 
ness  from  the  west  had  spread  until  it  was 
overhead,  and  light  clouds  were  moving 
eastwardly  across  the  face  of  the  sky. 

"  I  felt  a  drop  of  rain,"  she  observed. 

He  urged  the  horse  to  a  gallop. 

"  So  did  I,"  said  he  a  moment  later. 

"  It  will  be  a  good  night  to  stay  at 
home  and  read,"  he  went  on.  "  Don't 
you  think  I  am  getting  to  be  quite  a 
reader?  Two  books  already  this  month; 
one  of  them  had  three  hundred  and  twelve 
pages.  But  there  were  a  good  many  pic 
tures,"  he  added  conscientiously. 

She  smiled,  but  said  nothing. 

He  watched  her  as  they  drove  along. 
Presently  he  broke  the  silence. 

"  I  would  n't  worry  about  the  baby,"  he 
said.  "  Probably  he  has  a  little  cold  or  a 
stomach-ache.  The  nurse  is  terrified  if  he 


TING-A-LING  119 

"That  's  probably  all,"  she  said;  "you 
know  what  a  goose  I  am." 

As  they  turned  into  the  driveway  the 
rain  began  to  pour  down.  Under  the 
porte-cochere  she  got  out  of  the  trap  and 
went  in  while  he  held  the  horse. 

Presently  a  man  came  from  the  stable, 
and  he  too  went  in.  He  was  taking  off 
his  coat  when  his  wife  came  down  from 
the  nursery. 

"Well?"  he  asked. 

"  He  's  about  the  same,"  she  answered. 
"  He  seems  to  have  a  little  fever.  What 
time  did  the  doctor  say  he  would  be  here  ?" 

"About  six,"  said  Curtis.  He  looked 
at  his  watch.  "  It  will  be  an  hour  yet. 
It  's  begun  to  snow,"  he  added. 

They  went  to  the  library,  which  looked 
toward  the  west,  and  watched  the  break 
ing  storm. 

"  It  was  too  bad  about  Ting-a-ling," 
she  said  after  a  pause. 

"  Well,"  he  answered,  "  we  have  to  take 
things  as  they  come.  I  should  like  to 
have  shown  what  a  horse  he  is.  We  shall 
next  year." 


120  GALLOPS    2 

"  I  wish  you  would  promise  never  to 
ride  him  in  a  race  again/'  she  said. 

"  I  don't  think  you  ought  to  ask  that," 
he  answered  sharply.  "  For  the  horse's 
sake,  I  want  him  to  have  a  chance  to 
redeem  himself.  Don't  you  ?  " 

"  Is  n't  it  wrong  to  take  unnecessary 
risks  ?  "  she  replied. 

He  made  no  answer. 

The  rain  had  changed  to  sleet,  and  the 
ground  was  already  white.  The  bare  elms 
on  the  lawn  were  creaking  dismally.  They 
could  see  the  stiff  shrubs  in  the  garden 
bend  to  the  gusts.  The  storm  beat  on 
the  window-panes,  and  in  the  fierce  blasts 
the  house  trembled.  As  they  stood  by 
the  window,  the  man  brought  in  the  lighted 
lamps,  and  they  realized  that  the  night 
had  set  in. 

"  Suppose  we  have  a  look  at  him,"  he 
said.  By  "  him  "  he  meant  Ting-a-ling. 
"  Won't  you  come?  If  the  doctor  arrives, 
they  can  send  for  us." 

"  I  'd  like  to,"  she  said. 

On  the  way  out,  she  went  to  the  pantry 
and  took  some  lumps  of  sugar. 


TING-A-LING  121 

The  stable  servants  were  at  supper,  and 
the  stable  was  still  except  for  the  sound 
of  the  horses  munching  at  their  oats.  As 
he  drew  the  door  open  the  grinding  hushed 
except  in  the  two  stalls  where  the  phaeton 
ponies  ate  stolidly  on.  The  line  of  dusky 
heads  was  lifted  and  thrust  curiously  for 
ward.  From  the  box-stall  in  the  corner 
came  a  low  whinny,  and  in  the  dim  light 
of  the  wall  lamp  they  saw  a  long  neck 
stretched  out  and  two  pointed  ears  cocked 
forward.  It  was  Ting-a-ling. 

"You  beggar!"  said  Curtis.  "You 
know  what  we  've  got."  He  went  into  the 
stall  and  stripped  off  the  blankets.  She 
followed  him.  "Hello!"  he  exclaimed. 
His  arm  was  nipped  gently.  "  You  have 
very  bad  manners."  The  horse  drew  back, 
tossed  his  head,  and  pawed. 

"  Look  here,"  Mrs.  Curtis  said.  She 
held  out  a  piece  of  sugar.  A  soft  muzzle 
touched  her  hand,  the  lips  opened  and 
scraped  across  her  palm,  and  there  was  a 
crunching  sound. 

"You  baby!"  she  said,  and  gave  him  a 
second  piece.  "  I  'm  very  fond  of  you," 


122  GALLOPS    2 

she  added  under  her  breath,  "  in  spite—" 
She  stopped. 

"  He  seems  to  be  feeding  well,"  said 
Curtis. 

He  put  his  hand  into  the  manger.  It 
touched  the  clean,  moistened  boards  of 
the  bottom. 

"  You  're  a  pig !"  he  exclaimed.  "  He  's 
put  away  five  quarts  already,"  he  said  to 
his  wife.  "  Does  n't  he  look  fit?  " 

They  drew  back  and  looked  the  horse 
over.  The  legs  were  clean,  the  great 
muscles  stood  out  on  forearm  and  quarter, 
the  flesh  was  hard  and  spare. 

"  He  's  a  great  type,"  said  Curtis, 
"  is  n't  he  ?  But  if  he  were  three-cornered 
I  'd  like  him  just  as  well.  I  'm  ashamed 
to  care  so  much  for  him." 

"  Do  you  remember  the  day  we  got 
him?"  she  asked. 

He  stepped  back  and  put  his  arm  around 
her. 

"  It  seems  yesterday,  dear,"  he  said. 
"How  the  years  go  by!"  He  put  back 
the  blankets,  and  stood  a  moment  fasten 
ing  the  surcingle. 


TING-A-LING  123 

"  Barring  accidents,  old  horse,"  he  mut 
tered,  "  we  '11  have  your  name  on  the  cup 
yet." 

A  swelling  feeling  came  into  his  throat, 
and  he  put  his  face  against  the  sleek  neck. 
He  straightened  up  quickly  as  he  heard 
the  doors  slide  apart  and  somebody  come 
in. 

"  Mr.  Curtis,"  called  a  voice.  It  was 
Tim. 

"  Hello!"  said  Curtis. 

"  The  doctor  's  come,"  said  Tim. 

"  All  right,"  answered  Curtis. 

He  drew  his  wife's  wraps  about  her, 
and  they  made  their  way  back  to  the 
house. 

The  doctor  met  them  at  the  door  of  the 
nursery. 

"This  child  is  sick,"  he  said.  "The 
temperature  has  gone  up  in  a  way  I  don't 
like.  We  've  got  to  operate." 

"  Operate ! "  Curtis  exclaimed.  He  put 
his  hand  upon  the  banister.  "  What  do 
you  mean?"  * 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor. 

"When?"  said  Mrs.  Curtis. 


124  GALLOPS    2 

"  Lamplight  is  bad,"  said  the  doctor, 
"  but  we  must  do  the  best  we  can.  It  ought 
to  be  done  before  ten  o'clock.  I  should 
be  afraid  to  wait  longer." 

Neither  husband  nor  wife  spoke.  The 
doctor  looked  at  his  watch. 

"  Whom  would  you  rather  have  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  Have  ? "  repeated  Curtis.  A  gust 
rattled  the  windows  at  the  end  of  the  hall, 
and  as  it  died  away  he  heard  the  tick-tick 
of  the  sleet  on  the  pane.  He  looked  at 
the  doctor  with  a  white  face. 

"Can't  you  do  it?"  he  asked.  "Sup 
pose  we  could  n't  get  any  one  from  town 
by  ten  o'clock  ?  " 

"  We  must,"  said  the  doctor,  cheerfully. 
"  I  'm  not  a  surgeon,  and  there  is  none  in 
the  village.  Would  you  rather  have  An 
derson,  or  Tate  ?  " 

"  Dr.  Anderson,"  said  Mrs.  Curtis. 

"  He  must  get  the  train  that  leaves  town 
at  eight  o'clock,"  said  the  doctor.  "  There 
is  no  other  until  midnight." 

"  It  's  a  quarter  past  six  now,"  said 
Curtis.  "  That  gives  us  an  hour  and 


TING-A-LING  125 

three  quarters.  I  '11  telephone  at  once." 
He  left  the  room  and  went  to  the  tele 
phone. 

After  some  delay  the  village  operator 
answered. 

"  You  can't  get  the  city,"  said  the  girl ; 
"  the  wires  are  down.  I  have  been  trying 
to  get  them  for  an  hour  for  the  telegraph 
people.  Their  line  is  closed,  too." 

"  When  do  you  expect  your  wires  to  be 
repaired  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Can't  say,"  the  operator  replied.  "  Not 
to-night,  though.  The  linemen  can't  work 
to-night." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Curtis.  He  hung 
up  the  receiver  and  stood  blankly  before 
the  instrument.  He  was  about  to  move 
away  when  he  heard  a  footstep.  He 
turned,  and  his  wife  was  standing  beside 
him. 

"  He  '11  come,  won't  he  ?  "  she  said. 

He  put  a  cigarette  in  his  mouth  and 
struck  a  match. 

"Is  anything  the  matter?"  she  asked. 
"Won't  he  come?" 

"  He  '11  come,"  he  answered.  "  I  'm  going 


126  GALLOPS    2 

to  the  station  for  him  myself.  I  '11  dine 
when  I  come  back.  You  and  the  doctor 
get  the  things  ready."  He  went  into  the 
smoking-room  and  walked  the  length  of 
the  room  and  back.  "  Six  miles,  ten,  fif 
teen,  and  six  more  down-town,"  he  said 
aloud.  He  looked  at  his  watch  again. 
It  was  twenty  minutes  past  six.  "  Start 
at  half-past,"  he  went  on ;  "  that 's  twenty- 
one  miles  in  an  hour  and  a  quarter — and 
these  roads!"  He  went  to  the  wall  and 
rang  a  bell.  "  Twenty-one  miles  in  an 
hour  and  a  quarter,"  he  repeated.  "  Search 
light  can't  do  it,  nor  Xerxes,  nor  Huron, 
nor  the  roan  mare." 

A  servant  appeared. 

"Tell  Hobson,"  he  said,  "to  saddle 
Ting-a-ling  at  once.  Tell  him  to  hurry, 
and  send  Tim  here." 

Tim  came,  and  Curtis  explained. 

"  Can  he  do  it?  "  asked  Curtis. 

"  I  don't  know,  sir,"  said  the  boy. 

"  He  's  got  to  do  it,"  said  Curtis.  "  Do 
you  understand?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

They  hurried  to  the  stable,  and  found 
Hobson  buckling  the  throat-latch. 


TING-A-LING  127 

"  All  ready,  sir,"  he  said. 

Tim  climbed  into  the  saddle  and  gath 
ered  up  his  reins.  Then  Hobson  threw 
open  the  door,  and  the  horse  and  boy 
clattered  out  and  disappeared  in  the 
storm. 

Curtis  looked  at  his  watch.  It  was 
twenty-eight  minutes  past  six.  "  Have 
the  bus  and  a  pair  at  the  house  at  eight," 
he  said,  and  went  back  to  the  house. 

He  met  his  wife  in  the  hall. 

"  Is  there  any  change  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"Suppose  he  should  miss  the  train?" 
she  suggested. 

"  He  won't,"  said  Curtis. 

She  sighed,  and  was  silent  for  a  pause. 
"  What  a  wonderful  thing  the  telephone 
is ! "  she  said.  "  What  would  we  have 
done  without  it?" 

"  That  's  so,"  said  Curtis.  "  I  'm  going 
to  the  station  at  eight,"  he  added. 

AT  ten  minutes  of  nine  she  was  standing 
with  her  face  against  the  window-pane, 
when  the  lights  of  the  station  bus  in  the 
driveway  glimmered  through  the  storm. 


128  GALLOPS    2 

She  went  to  the  head  of  the  stairway  and 
waited  breathless. 

"  Suppose,"  she  thought,  "he  has  missed 
the  train ! " 

Presently  there  sounded  the  crunching 
of  wheels  on  the  gravel  under  the  porte- 
cochere.  This  meant  that  the  bus  was 
stopping  at  the  house.  Then  the  door 
opened. 

"Come  along,"  said  her  husband's  voice. 

"  Thank  God ! "  she  murmured.  She  sat 
down  for  a  moment,  and  then  went  to  the 
nursery,  which  had  been  made  into  a 
hospital. 

There  was  the  tramp  of  ascending  feet 
on  the  stairs,  and  then  the  surgeon  and 
the  village  doctor  came  in  and  asked  her 
to  leave  the  room. 

It  seemed  a  long  time,  but  it  was  only 
half  an  hour,  when  Dr.  Anderson  came 
out. 

"  It  's  all  right,"  he  said. 

"What  are  the  chances?"  she  asked. 

"  There  are  n't  any,"  he  replied ;  "  that 
is,  perhaps  only  one  in  a  million — " 

She  looked  alarmed. 


TING-A-LING  129 

"  Of  anything  unpleasant  happening," 
he  went  on.  "We  got  it  just  in  time. 
Your  son  is  better  off  than  other  boys 
who  wear  their  appendices.  His  is  in  a 
bottle." 

The  door-bell  sounded  faintly  from  the 
rear  of  the  house,  and  they  both  listened. 
A  moment  later  the  front  door  opened, 
and  she  heard  voices  in  the  lower  hall. 

"  They  're  a  lot  of  people  who  've  come 
in  to  play  bridge.  I  'd  forgotten  about 
them,"  she  said.  "  Will  you  tell  them  I  '11 
be  down  presently  ?  " 

She  went  into  the  nursery,  and  Dr. 
Anderson  went  down-stairs. 

When  she  came  down  she  found  them 
in  the  dining-room,  watching  the  surgeon 
and  Curtis  eating  supper,  and  asking  them 
questions  about  the  operation. 

Her  eyes  caught  Willie's.  He  was  quiet 
and  white.  He  drew  a  chair  for  her,  and 
she  sat  down  next  him.  She  put  her  hand 
in  his. 

"  It  's  all  right,"  she  said. 

"  It  was  an  awfully  close  shave,"  he 
whispered. 


I3o  GALLOPS    2 

"  Yes,  it  was,"  she  answered. 

She  turned  to  Dr.  Anderson.  "You 
were  good  to  come,"  she  said.  "  What 
would  we  have  done  if  you  had  n't  been 
at  home  when  Mr.  Curtis  telephoned  ?  " 

"Telephoned?"  he  repeated. 

Curtis  got  up  and  went  to  the  sideboard 
for  a  whisky-decanter. 

"  Yes,'  telephoned,"  she  said. 

The  surgeon  looked  at  Curtis. 

"  Mary,"  said  Curtis,  "  the  telephone 
wires  were  down.  Tim  went  to  town  for 
the  doctor." 

She  looked  around  in  amazement. 

"  But  we  did  n't  know  till  nearly  half- 
past  six,"  she  exclaimed.  She  turned  to 
Dr.  Anderson.  "You  caught  the  eight- 
o'clock  train.  How  did  Tim  go?  " 

"  On  horseback,"  said  Curtis. 

"  But  that 's  twenty  miles ! "  said  Willie. 

"  Twenty-one,"  said  Curtis ;  "  he  went 
in  an  hour  and  a  quarter." 

There  was  a  silence  for  a  moment. 
Then  she  spoke. 

"What  horse  did  he  ride?"  she  de 
manded. 


TING-A-LING  131 

"  What  horse  have  we  that  could  have 
done  it?"  replied  Curtis. 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  in 
apprehension.  "Is  he  all  right?"  she 
asked. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Curtis.  "Tim 
came  back  by  train." 

"  Send  for  Tim,"  she  said  to  the  butler. 

Tim  came,  and  stood  fumbling  with  his 
cap,  which  was  soggy  with  melted  snow. 

"Were  n't  you  frozen?"  she  asked. 

"  No,  ma'am,"  the  boy  answered. 

"Tell  me  about  it,"  she  said. 

"Tell  about  it?"  repeated  the  boy. 
"  Why,  ma'am — "  He  grew  confused  and 
stopped. 

"But  tell  me—"  she  hesitated,  and  her 
lip  trembled — "  tell  me  how  Ting-a-ling 
is." 

The  boy  made  no  answer,  but  looked 
toward  the  surgeon. 

She  turned  to  Dr.  Anderson.  "  What 
is  it?"  she  demanded. 

"  I  was  starting  out  to  dine,"  said  the 
surgeon,  "  when  a  policeman  came  to  the 
door  and  said  there  was  a  sick  horse  on 


132  GALLOPS    2 

the  corner,  and  a  boy  with  him  who  wanted 
to  see  me.  I  went  and  found  them  both 
there." 

"Well?"  said  Mrs.  Curtis. 

"  Well,"  said  the  doctor,  "  as  I  reached 
the  corner  the  cross-town  trolley-car  was 
letting  off  a  passenger.  When  the  bell 
rang  to  start,  the  horse  in  the  street  lifted 
his  head,  scrambled  to  his  feet,  staggered 
a  step  forward,  and  came  down  again. 
He  was  dead." 

There  was  a  stillness  in  the  room,  and 
the  crying  of  a  sick  baby  sounded  faintly 
from  up-stairs.  Presently  it  ceased.  For 
an  instant  the  wife's  eyes  met  those  of  her 
husband.  Then  resting  her  elbows  on  the 
table,  she  hid  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"God  forgive  me!"  they  heard  Willie 
murmur  in  a  queer  voice.  "  That  was  a 
horse!" 

"  A  street-car  horse,"  said  Curtis, 
gently. 

No  one  spoke  again,  but  each  rose  and 
left  the  dining-room. 


THE   BRAYBROOKE   BABY'S 
GODMOTHER 


V 

THE  BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER 

THE  bishop  put  on  his  glasses  and 
wandered  down  the  car,  consulting 
a  ticket  and  examining  the  numbers  on 
the  revolving-chairs. 

"  Good  morning,"  said  a  voice. 

He  looked  down  and  saw  Miss  Henrietta 
Gushing. 

"  Why,  how  do  you  do  ? "  said  the 
bishop,  smiling.  "  This  is  a  pleasant  sur 
prise."  He  held  up  his  ticket  hopelessly. 
"  Can  you  help  me  ?  "  he  asked.  "  I  can't 
make  out  this  number.  It  might  be  a 
nine  or  a  seven  or  a  six." 

"  Pay  no  attention  to  the  number,"  said 
Miss  Gushing ;  "  if  the  officers  of  this  rail 
way  cannot  write  legibly  they  must  take 


136  GALLOPS    2 

the  consequences.  Sit  down  next  to  me, 
and  I  shall  not  permit  them  to  turn  you 
out." 

"  I  shall  do  that,"  said  the  bishop,  grate 
fully,  and  he  sat  down. 

Miss  Gushing  lived  a  few  doors  from 
the  bishop  in  Gramercy  Park,  and  they 
were  old  friends  as  well  as  neighbors.  She 
was  a  little  woman.  Her  hair,  parted  in 
the  middle  and  drawn  smoothly  down  in 
the  fashion  of  another  generation,  was 
streaked  with  gray ;  but  it  was  thick,  and 
her  brow  was  smooth,  her  gray  eyes  were 
bright,  and  there  was  a  tinge  of  pink  in 
her  cheeks.  She  was  dressed  simply  in 
black,  but  her  clothes  were  very  well  made, 
as  women  observed,  and  there  was  always 
a  remarkable  piece  of  lace  about  her  neck. 
She  was  rich  even  for  these  days. 

Miss  Gushing  was  cousin  to  most  of  the 
distinguished  New-Yorkers  of  the  days 
before  the  plutocracy,  but  she  had  no 
immediate  family,  and  she  lived  by  her 
self  in  seclusion.  Like  many  women  who 
have  never  married,  she  had  elaborate 
theories  in  regard  to  the  discipline  and 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      137 

bringing  up  of  young  children,  and 
spoiled  all  those  with  whom  she  came 
into  contact  by  a  too  indulgent  ten 
derness.  Her  liking  for  babies  amounted 
to  a  passion,  and  she  gave  large  sums 
secretly  to  charities  of  which  infants 
were  the  beneficiaries.  Her  dominant 
feeling,  however,  was  her  sympathy  for 
the  sufferings  of  defenseless  animals.  She 
gave  not  only  her  money  for  this  cause, 
but  her  time  also,  and  served  on  the  ex 
ecutive  committee  of  the  council  of  the 
society.  The  bishop  settled  himself  in  the 
chair  next  to  Miss  Gushing  and  relaxed 
his  great  frame.  A  sigh  of  relief  and  com 
fort  escaped  him. 

"  I  hurried,"  he  said ;  "  I  was  afraid  that 
I  was  going  to  be  late." 

"  Are  you  on  pleasure  bent,"  asked  Miss 
Gushing,  "or  is  this  work?" 

"  There  are  some  duties,"  replied  the 
bishop,  "which  are  so  pleasant  as  to  es 
cape  from  the  category  of  work  by  their 
very  nature.  It  is  one  of  these  which  is 
taking  me  to  Oakdale.  You  see — "  he  con 
tinued,  but  Miss  Gushing  interrupted  him. 


138  GALLOPS    2 

"  Oakdale!"  she  exclaimed.  "  It  must 
be  a  great  trial  and  mortification  to  you 
to  have  that  place  in  your  diocese."  She 
looked  at  him  with  eyes  full  of  sympathy. 

"Why?"  said  the  bishop. 

"  Why  ? "  repeated  Miss  Gushing. 
"  Have  you  never  been  there  ?  Have  you 
never  heard  of  their  practices?" 

"  Practices  ?  "  said  the  bishop. 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Gushing;  "barbarous 
practices." 

The  bishop  looked  perplexed.  "  I  have 
been  there,"  he  said;  "  I  have  been  there 
a  good  deal.  At  first  the  interest  in  horses 
and  sport  rather  astonished  me, — it  is  a 
hunting  community, — but —  "  the  bishop 
hesitated. 

"  Exactly,"  said  Miss  Gushing,  showing 
a  gleam  of  white  teeth  and  then  closing 
her  lips  very  tight ;  "  a  fox-hunting  com 
munity.  You  are  a  bishop,  and  you  have 
been  the  president  of  a  fellow-society  to 
ours.  Do  you  think  it  humane  or  Chris 
tian,"  she  continued,  "  to  pursue  God's 
defenseless  creatures  for  hours,  yes,  for 
days,  till  they  fall  exhausted  in  the  mouths 
of  ravening  hounds  ?  " 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      139 

The  bishop  looked  thoughtfully  at  Miss 
Gushing.  "  Do  they  do  that?  "  he  asked. 
"  Are  you  sure  of  your  facts?  " 

"  Oh,  quite,"  she  replied.  She  opened 
a  little  bag  and  produced  a  roll  of  news 
paper  clippings  inclosed  in  an  elastic  band. 
Removing  the  band,  she  flattened  out  the 
slips  and  arranged  them  for  reference. 

"  Here,"  she  began,  "  is  the  interview 
with  a  veteran  fox-chaser  in  which  he  tells 
about  a  dog  which  chased  a  fox  for  five 
days  and  nights.  What  do  you  think  of  a 
man  who  would  boast  of  such  a  deed  ?  " 

"  I  should  think,"  answered  the  bishop, 
slowly,  "  that  he  was  a  liar." 

"  Quite  so,"  said  Miss  Gushing,  who  did 
not  catch  the  bishop's  meaning.  "  He 
must  be  thoroughly  depraved." 

"  But  this  account,"  said  the  bishop, 
"  refers  to  the  South.  I  am  sure  that  at 
Oakdale  the  hunts  last  but  a  few  hours, 
and  I  recall  some  one  telling  me  that  the 
only  fox  which  they  have  killed  in  three 
years  they  happened  on  in  a  farmer's  poul 
try-yard  as  they  were  coming  home." 

"They  have  deceived  you,"  said  Miss 
Gushing.  "It  is  very  natural.  Look!" 


140  GALLOPS    2 

she  continued.  She  held  out  a  dozen 
short  clippings.  "  These  are  recent  ac 
counts  of  the  hunts  at  Oakdale,  not  the 
South.  In  each  one  it  mentions  by  name 
the  persons  who  were  '  in  at  the  death.' 
The  death,  you  understand,  means  the 
death  of  the  fox."  She  selected  a  clipping 
and  began  to  read.  It  concluded :  "  '  The 
hounds  finished  at  Smith's  Corners.  At 
the  death  were — '  "  Miss  Gushing  stopped 
as  she  read  the  first  name,  a  woman's.  "  I 
suppose  you  know  who  that  is?"  she  said 
to  the  bishop.  "  What  would  Tilly  say  if 
she  knew  that  her  daughter  had  married 
into  that  set,  and  was  watching  the  death- 
agonies  of  a  creature  that  never  did  any 
one  harm?  Our  work  in  the  streets  and 
slums  is  difficult  enough  as  it  is;  but 
when  the  daughters  of  one's  friends  are 
offenders  too,  it  is  somewhat  discourag- 
ing." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  bishop ;  "  your  work  is 
not  only  a  good  but  a  difficult  one.  How 
ever,"  he  added,  "  I  believe  that  the  ex 
pression  'in  at  the  death'  must  be  used 
figuratively,  because  I  have  heard  that  all 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      141 

last  spring  the  club  hunted  nothing  but 
drags." 

Miss  Gushing  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  That  is  exactly  what  the  club  wrote  to 
our  secretary!"  she  exclaimed.  "And 
what  pained  me  very  much  was  that  the 
letter  was  signed  by  young  James  Bray- 
brooke.  You  know,"  she  added,  "  that  his 
mother,  till  her  death,  was  my  dear 
friend." 

"  Well,"  said  the  bishop,  somewhat 
sharply,  "  why  should  you  be  pained  by 
the  fact  that  he  signed  the  letter  ?  It  said 
that  they  had  been  hunting  a  drag,  just  as 
I  told  you." 

Miss  Gushing  looked  at  the  bishop  in 
amazement.  "  Bishop  Cunningham,"  she 
exclaimed,  "  your  course  is  a  matter  for 
your  own  conscience,  but  I  shall  never  con 
sent  to  make  flesh  of  one  and  fish  of  another. 
While  I  am  in  the  council,  our  society  shall 
protect  drags  as  well  as  foxes." 

"  Drags  as  well  as  foxes?  "  repeated  the 
bishop. 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Gushing,  with 
emphasis. 


142  GALLOPS    2 

The  bishop  looked  at  her,  utterly  at  a 
loss.  Then  a  light  broke  upon  him  and 
his  face  softened. 

"Ah,  yes,"  he  said  mildly;  "do  you 
know  what  a  drag  is  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  small  creature,"  Miss  Gushing 
replied.  "  I  have  never  seen  one,  as  I  dis 
approve  of  menageries;  but  I  presume 
that  it  belongs  to  the  fox  family." 

"  You  say  that  you  have  never  seen 
one?"  observed  the  bishop. 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Gushing;  "I  have 
never  seen  one,  but  that  is  not  a  reason 
why  our  society  should  suffer  them  to  be 
tortured.  It  is  high  time  that  a  stand  was 
taken,  when  people  of  our  class  amuse  them 
selves  with  cruelty  to  drags.  And  I  am 
going  toOakdale  to  investigate  the  matter 
myself  and  bring  the  offenders  to  justice." 

"Good!"  said  the  bishop.  Then  he 
seized  his  newspaper  and  disappeared  be 
hind  it  till  a  fit  of  violent  coughing  should 
pass  away.  His  massive  body  shook  and 
Miss  Gushing  became  alarmed.  She  called 
the  porter.  "  Bring  some  water  to  Bishop 
Cunningham,"  she  said. 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      143 

Before  the  water  arrived  the  bishop  had 
recovered. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon  very  humbly,"  he 
said ;  "  these  attacks  come  on,  and  there 
seems  no  way  of  stopping  them." 

"  There  is  a  troche,"  she  said,  "  which 
is  admirable  for  bronchial  irritation ;  I  can 
not  recall  the  name,  but  I  shall  send  you 
a  package." 

"  You  are  very  good  to  me,"  said  the 
bishop.  He  wiped  his  eye-glasses  with 
his  handkerchief  and  settled  himself.  "  So 
that  is  your  errand  to  Oakdale  ?  "  he  began, 
the  corners  of  his  mouth  twitching  anew. 

"  Is  it  coming  on  again  ?  "  inquired  Miss 
Gushing,  anxiously. 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  said  the  bishop.  He 
cleared  his  throat  and  shut  his  mouth  with 
a  grim  expression.  Then  he  turned  to  his 
newspaper  again.  "I  '11  glance  at  the 
morning  news,"  he  said,  "  if  you  will  ex 
cuse  me." 

When  the  train  stopped  at  Oakdale,  the 
bishop  helped  Miss  Gushing  to  the  station 
platform,  and  spoke  to  a  liveried  servant 
who  was  waiting  there  to  take  his  bag. 


144  GALLOPS    2 

"  The  trap  will  drive  up,  sir,"  said  the 
man,  "  as  soon  as  the  train  pulls  out."  He 
said  this  as  he  noticed  Miss  Gushing  appa 
rently  looking  about  for  a  vehicle. 

"  Are  there  no  cabs  here  ?  "  asked  Miss 
Gushing,  in  a  tone  of  surprise. 

"  No,  madam,"  said  the  man. 

"  Have  n't  you  arranged  for  some  one 
to  meet  you  ?  "  asked  the  bishop.  "  You 
see,  the  village  is  two  miles  farther  on, 
and  nobody  gets  off  here  except  people 
who  are  going  over  toward  the  club,  and 
those  usually  arrange  to  be  met." 

"Dear  me!"  said  Miss  Gushing.  "  I 
wonder  what  I  shall  do." 

"Oh,"  said  the  bishop,  "you  will  come 
over  with  me." 

"  That  is  very  kind  of  you,"  said  Miss 
Gushing,  "  and  in  the  circumstances  I  am 
afraid  that  I  shall  have  to  trespass  upon 
your  kindness." 

As  the  train  moved  away,  a  smart-look 
ing  pair  of  horses  and  a  two-seated  trap 
came  up  to  the  platform. 

"  Here  we  are,"  said  the  bishop,  gaily, 
and  he  helped  Miss  Gushing  in.  "  This  is 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      145 

much  better  than  a  cab,  and  if  we  are  not 
run  away  with  or  shied  into  a  ditch,  we 
shall  arrive  at  the  club  in  half  the  time  in 
which  a  livery  vehicle  would  have  taken  us." 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Gushing,  "  it  really 
has  turned  out  very  well." 

Just  then  the  footman  turned  around 
and  spoke  to  the  bishop. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir ;  I  forgot  to 
tell  you  that  Mr.  Braybrooke  sent  his  apolo 
gies  for  not  meeting  you  himself,  but  there 
was  an  unexpected  party  of  gentlemen — " 
Here  the  off  horseshiedatsomethinginvisi- 
ble  to  man,  and  nearly  succeeded  in  crowd 
ing  the  near  one  over  a  culvert.  The  foot 
man's  attention  was  occupied  in  holding 
on,  and  when  the  danger  had  been  averted 
he  had  no  opportunity  for  continuing. 

"  Mr.  Braybrooke ! "  exclaimed  Miss 
Gushing  to  the  bishop.  "  Are  these  James 
Braybrooke's  horses  ?  Am  I  riding  in  his 
carriage  ?  "  Her  tone  expressed  both  hor 
ror  and  indignation. 

"  Well,"  said  the  bishop,  "  you  could  n't 
stop  at  the  station  all  day,  and  it  is  too 

far  to  walk." 
10 


146  GALLOPS    2 

"  No  matter  how  far  it  was,"  said  Miss 
Gushing.  "  I  certainly  should  have  walked, 
and  I  shall  walk  now." 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said 
the  bishop,  mildly. 

"  But  you  must  see,"  said  Miss  Gushing, 
"  that  this  is  improper.  I  have  not  seen 
James  Braybrooke  since  he  was  a  baby ; 
yet,  for  his  mother's  sake,  I  would  save 
him  from  public  disgrace  if  he  would 
abandon  his  practices.  However,  I  am 
investigating  a  case  against  him,  and  I 
cannot  accept  the  hospitality  of  his  car- 
riage." 

"  Would  it  not  be  judicial  to  suspend 
judgment  until  you  have  investigated  ?  " 
suggested  the  bishop. 

"  Stop  the  carriage ! "  demanded  Miss 
Gushing.  "  I  am  going  to  walk." 

"  From  the  next  hill,"  said  the  bishop, 
"  one  gets  quite  the  best  view  of  the  neigh 
boring  country."  He  put  his  hand  on 
Miss  Cushing's  as  if  to  say,  "  Hush,  my 
child!" 

There  was  no  answer  to  make.  Miss 
Gushing  said  nothing,  but  her  mouth 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER       147 

straightened  at  the  corners.  They  drove 
in  silence  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  they 
passed  the  stone  gateway  of  a  country 
house,  and  presently  the  brick  one  of  an 
other. 

"  Are  we  very  nearly  there  ? "  asked 
Miss  Gushing. 

"Yes,"  said  the  bishop;  "I  was  just 
about  to  ask  you  with  whom  you  were 
going  to  stop." 

"  I  shall  go  to  the  hotel  for  lunch,"  she 
said ;  "  but  I  am  going  to  see  a  woman 
who  lives  near  the  club."  She  opened  her 
bag  and  produced  a  letter.  "  A  Mrs. 
Patrick  Hennessey,"  she  continued. 

"  I  do  not  recall  any  such  name,"  the 
bishop  said.  "  Does  the  lady  belong  to 
your  association  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Miss  Gushing;  "but she  in 
tends  to  join,  and  she  is  much  in  sympathy 
with  us." 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  said  the  bishop.  "  This  is 
how  you  got  your  information." 

Miss  Gushing  looked  at  him  doubtfully. 
"  I  ought  not  to  have  told  you  this,"  she 
said,  "  because  all  complaints  are  treated 


148  GALLOPS    2 

as  confidential.  You  will  say  nothing 
about  it,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Assuredly  not,"  said  the  bishop. 

At  this  moment  there  appeared  a  young 
man  on  a  polo  pony,  riding  toward  them. 
The  bishop  waved  his  hand  to  him,  and 
the  young  man  waved  his  hat  in  reply. 
As  the  trap  came  up  to  him  he  turned 
and  rode  beside  it. 

"  Miss  Gushing,"  said  the  bishop,  "  may 
I  present  Mr.  Braybrooke?" 

Miss  Gushing  bowed  stiffly,  and  Mr. 
Braybrooke  took  off  his  hat  again. 

"  Miss  Gushing  has  come  down — "  be 
gan  the  bishop. 

"  We  are  very  glad  to  see  her,"  inter 
rupted  Mr.  Braybrooke.  "  I  think,"  he 
continued,  speaking  to  Miss  Gushing, 
"that  you  were  a  great  friend  of  my 
mother's." 

Miss  Gushing  bowed  again. 

"  I  saw  you  as  you  came  over  the  hill," 
Braybrooke  said  to  the  bishop ;  "  we  Ve 
been  having  some  gymkhanas  on  the  lawn. 
I  am  afraid,"  he  added  apologetically, 
"  that  they  are  about  over." 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      149 

"  That  is  too  bad,"  said  the  bishop ;  "  it 
would  have  been  interesting  to  see  them." 

"  Perhaps/'  said  Braybrooke,  "we  can  get 
up  an  extra  race  or  two,  but  it  is  pretty 
nearly  time  for  lunch.  Are  you  interested 
in  sports?"  he  asked  Miss  Gushing.  As 
he  spoke  they  turned  into  a  gateway  and 
rolled  up  a  long  private  drive. 

"  Don't  think  of  having  anything  on  my 
account,"  said  Miss  Gushing,  "  because  I 
could  not  stop;  I  really  must  be  going 
on." 

"  Why  ?  "  said  Braybrooke,  with  a  shade 
of  disappointment  in  his  tone.  "  I  hoped 
you  had  come  down  with  Bishop  Cun 
ningham  to  stop  the  day  with  us." 

"  That  's  very  kind  of  you,"  said  Miss 
Gushing,  uncomfortably,  "  but  I  could  n't 
think  of  it."  She  resolved  to  blurt  out  the 
truth.  "  You  see,"  she  began,  "  I  Ve— " 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  said  Braybrooke ;  "  you  are 
lunching  with  some  one  else.  Where  can 
I  send  you  ?  " 

"  This  is  most  embarrassing,"  said  Miss 
Gushing.  "  There  was  no  cab  at  the  sta 
tion,  and  Bishop  Cunningham  insisted — " 


150  GALLOPS    2 

"  Of  course,"  said  Braybrooke.  "  I  really 
wish  you  would  stop  with  us ;  but  if  you 
are  engaged  for  lunch,  the  trap  will  take 
you  over." 

Miss  Gushing  looked  helplessly  at  the 
bishop. 

"  You  would  better  stay  to  lunch,"  said 
the  bishop. 

"  You  really  must,"  said  Braybrooke,  "  if 
you  have  no  other  engagement." 

"  No,  I  could  n't  think  of  that,"  said 
Miss  Gushing;  "but  if  you  could  tell  me 
how  to  get  to  the  nearest  hotel  in  the  vil 
lage  I  should  be  very  grateful." 

Braybrooke  looked  perplexed,  and  made 
no  reply. 

"  If  it  is  any  trouble — "  said  Miss  Gush 
ing,  quickly. 

"  It  would  be  no  trouble,"  said  Bray 
brooke,  "  but  there  is  n't  any  hotel.  I 
might  send  you  over  to  the  club,"  he 
added,  "  but  I  don't  think  that  ladies  lunch 
at  the  club  alone.  I  '11  ask  Mrs.  Bray 
brooke." 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by 
their  arrival  at  the  house.  The  bishop 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      151 

waved  to  Mrs.  Braybrooke,  who  was  on  the 
veranda  to  meet  them.  "  We  have  ar 
rived,  my  dear,"  he  said,  and  patted  her 
hand  affectionately.  "  Let  me  present  you 
to  Miss  Gushing.  She  is  my  very  dear 
friend." 

Mrs.  Braybrooke  smiled.  "  It  is  very 
nice  of  you  to  come  with  the  bishop,"  she 
said  to  Miss  Gushing,  "  and  it  was  very 
nice  of  him  to  come,  too.  This  is  a  great 
event  for  us."  She  smiled  again. 

A  pang  of  shame  pierced  Miss  Gushing. 
"What  shall  I  do?"  she  asked  herself. 
Before  an  answer  came  the  bishop  handed 
her  out  upon  the  veranda. 

"  You  are  very  good,"  she  said  abjectly 
to  Mrs.  Braybrooke.  She  looked  at  the 
bishop,  but  his  gaze  was  directed  across 
the  lawn,  where  there  was  a  tent  and  a 
group  of  men  in  boots  and  breeches. 

"  If  you  will  excuse  me  a  moment,"  said 
Braybrooke,  "  I  '11  see  if  we  can  get  up  an 
other  race."  He  left  the  veranda. 

"  And  if  you  will  excuse  me"  said  Mrs. 
Braybrooke,  "  I  shall  see  if  we  are  not  soon 
going  to  have  lunch ;  you  must  be  fam- 


152  GALLOPS    2 

ished."  As  she  spoke  she  disappeared 
into  the  house. 

But  Miss  Gushing  knew  that  it  was 
not  to  find  out  when  lunch  was  to  be 
served,  but  to  order  an  extra  place  made 
at  the  lunch-table.  She  turned  to  the 
bishop. 

"  I  can't  —  I  can't  stop  and  lunch  in 
their  house,"  she  gasped. 

The  bishop  looked  at  her  mildly. 

"  I  must  explain  at  once,"  she  went  on. 
"  How  can  I  eat  the  bread  of  people  whom 
it  is  my  duty  to  prosecute  at  law?  People 
whose  hands  are  stained — " 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  interrupted  the  bishop. 
"  I  thought  that  you  had  come  down  here 
to  investigate." 

"But  the  articles!"  exclaimed  Miss 
Gushing,  clutching  the  bag  in  which  they 
were  stowed  away.  "  Can  you  have  any 
real  doubt?  And  then  the  statements  of 
Mrs.  Hennessey." 

"  But,"  said  the  bishop,  calmly,  "  if  you 
are  going  to  make  a  personal  investiga 
tion,  you  ought  to  make  it.  Don't  you 
think  so?" 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      153 

"  But  it  can  only  confirm  what  we  al 
ready  know,"  she  said  helplessly. 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  bishop.  "  What 
are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  Exactly ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Gushing. 
"  What  am  I  going  to  do  ?  Can't  you 
suggest  something?  If  I  had  not  got 
into  that  carriage  —  "  She  stopped.  She 
was  too  high-minded  to  intimate  that  it 
was  his  fault. 

The  bishop  regarded  her  and  deliber 
ated.  "  Henrietta,"  he  began  firmly,  "  in 
past  years  you  have  had  the  experience 
of  a  woman  of  the  world,  and  you  know 
that  you  have  no  moral  right  to  make  a 
scene  or  to  injure  the  feelings  of  others. 
It  is  not  for  me  to  say  what  you  should 
do,  but  I  would  suggest  that  you  accept 
the  situation  until  you  can  escape  from  it 
with  decency.'* 

"  Do  you  think,"  demanded  Miss  Gush 
ing,  "  that  it  is  right  for  me  to  lunch  with 
people  whom  I  propose  to  prosecute  in 
the  courts?" 

"  What  else  is  there  to  do  ?  "  replied  the 
bishop. 


154  GALLOPS    2 

At  that  moment  Mrs.  Braybrooke  ap 
peared  from  the  house.  She  spoke  to 
Miss  Gushing.  "  You  must  come  with  me," 
she  said;  "  I  want  you  to  see  the  baby." 

"  The  baby  ?  "  repeated  Miss  Gushing. 
("Is  there  a  baby?"  she  said  to  herself.) 

"Why,  yes,"  said  Mrs.  Braybrooke, 
rather  at  a  loss. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Miss  Gushing.  "  I 
want  to  see  it " ;  and  she  followed  Mrs. 
Braybrooke  in. 

Braybrooke  came  back  as  they  disap 
peared.  "  I  suppose,"  he  said  to  the 
bishop,  in  an  undertone,  "  that  Miss  Gush 
ing  did  n't  expect  that  we  would  be  having 
people  to  lunch,  and  feels  embarrassed.  It 
was  awfully  nice  of  her  to  come  down." 

"  I  don't  think  she  did  expect  to  find  a 
party,"  the  bishop  replied. 

"You  see," said  Braybrooke, "I  feel  that 
it  is  a  good  deal  for  Miss  Gushing  to  come 
down  here  just  to  be  present  at  the  baby's 
christening." 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  said  the  bishop  ; 
"  but  there  is  somebody  coming  to  an 
nounce  lunch." 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      155 

As  they  took  their  places  in  the  dining- 
room  the  bishop  observed  that  Miss  Gush 
ing  wore  a  softer  expression  and  that  there 
was  a  mild  light  in  her  gray  eyes.  He 
smiled. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  said  Braybrooke, — 
Miss  Gushing  was  sitting  upon  his  right, — 
"  that  we  could  n't  get  up  a  race  for  you. 
But,  you  see,  the  men  were  hungry  and 
were  cross  as  beasts.  Besides,  they  had 
sent  their  horses  to  be  cooled  out.  But 
perhaps,"  he  continued,  "  later,  after  the 
show,  we  can  get  up  something." 

"  After  the  show?  "  repeated  Miss  Gush 
ing,  inquiringly. 

"  I  ought  to  have  said  after  the  cere 
mony,"  said  Braybrooke,  apologizing. 
"  I  'm  awfully  careless." 

"Oh,  the  ceremony!"  exclaimed  Miss 
Gushing.  "  Oh,  I  understand."  ("  The 
ceremony"  she  repeated  to  herself.  "  What 
ceremony?  What  kind  of  party  have  I 
come  upon?  ") 

"By  the  way,  did  you  see  it?  "  asked 
Braybrooke.  He  nodded  his  head  upward. 

Miss  Gushing  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 


156  GALLOPS    2 

"The  baby,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Miss  Gushing;  "he  is 
charming." 

"Whom  do  you  think  he  looks  like?" 
Braybrooke  demanded. 

"You,"  replied  Miss  Gushing;  "he  is 
very  like  you." 

Braybrooke  grinned.  "  I  think  so,  too," 
he  said;  "but  they  say  I  'm  conceited  to 
think  so." 

Miss  Gushing  smiled.  "  He  seems  fond 
of  the  child,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  He  is 
very  like  his  mother.  It  is  hard  to  believe 
that  he  pursues  little  drags  to  death." 
This  reflection  recalled  her  mission,  and 
made  her  miserable  again  until  Willie 
Colfax,  who  sat  upon  her  other  hand,  en 
gaged  her  in  conversation. 

"  Do  you  ride  much  ? "  inquired  Mr. 
Colfax,  blandly. 

Braybrooke,  who  overheard,  shot  him 
an  annoyed  glance.  He  knew  that  his 
brother-in-law  was  preparing  to  sell  a 
horse. 

"  Each  afternoon  that  is  fine,"  said  Miss 
Gushing,  "  I  go  to  the  park  in  my  victoria." 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      157 

"  I  know,"  observed  Mr.  Colfax,  "  but 
do  you  ride  much  ?  Have  you  any  saddle- 
horses?" 

Miss  Gushing  looked  at  him  suspi 
ciously,  but  his  expression  was  sweet  and 
innocent* 

"  I  used  to  ride  when  I  was  a  girl,"  she 
said,  "  but  that  was  a  long  time  ago." 

Mr.  Colfax  regarded  her  incredulously. 
"  You  ought  to  keep  it  up,"  he  said.  "  I 
believe  in  enjoying  things  while  we  can. 
Still,"  he  continued,  "  one  can  get  a  great 
deal  of  pleasure  out  of  a  good  harness- 
horse,  too.  I  have  rather  a  good  one." 

"  Really,"  said  Miss  Gushing.  "  I  should 
like  to  see  it.  I  am  fond  of  horses." 

"  I  '11  show  him  to  you,"  said  Mr.  Col 
fax,  politely.  Here  Braybrooke  inter 
rupted  him,  and  the  subject  was  changed. 

Miss  Gushing  enjoyed  the  lunch-party 
in  spite  of  her  qualms  of  conscience.  It 
was  different  from  any  that  she  could  re 
member.  At  times  it  was  rather  noisy, 
but  she  thought  it  entertaining.  Mr.  Col- 
fax's  suggestion  that  she  take  a  place  at 
Oakdale  was,  of  course,  out  of  the  ques- 


158  GALLOPS    2 

tion,  but  it  was  pleasant  to  have  people 
express  kind  wishes.  She  liked  Mr. 
Colfax. 

When  lunch  was  over  she  had  an  op 
portunity  to  speak  to  the  bishop. 

"They  have  been  talking  about  some 
ceremony  that  is  to  take  place,"  she  said. 
"  Do  you  know  what  it  is?" 

The  bishop  looked  surprised.  "  Have  n't 
you  heard?"  he  said.  "They  are  going 
to  baptize  the  child." 

"And  is  that  what  you  came  down 
for?"  Miss  Gushing  demanded. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  bishop. 

"But  why  did  n't  you  tell  me?"  said 
Miss  Gushing. 

"You  did  n't  ask  me,"  the  bishop  an 
swered. 

Miss  Gushing  looked  about  her  anx 
iously,  and  drew  a  long  breath.  "  I  must 
slip  away,"  she  said.  "  Even  if  I  have 
lunched  with  these  people,  I  cannot  in 
trude  into  the  circle  invited  to  be  present 
on  a  solemn  occasion  of  this  kind.  Besides, 
I  must  find  Mrs.  Hennessey.  Yes,  I  must 
slip  away,"  she  continued.  "  Directly  I 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      159 

get  home  I  shall  write  and  explain,  and  I 
do  wish  that  you  would  write,  too." 

"  I  shall  write  anything  you  wish,"  re 
plied  the  bishop.  "  However,  I  don't  see 
how  you  are  going  to  '  slip  away.' ' 

Miss  Gushing  looked  furtively  about,  as 
if  considering  an  exit  by  one  of  the  win 
dows,  when  Mrs.  Braybrooke  approached 
and  spoke  to  her. 

"  Do  you  mind  driving  to  the  church 
with  my  brother,  Mr.  Colfax?  "  she  asked. 
"  If  you  have  the  least  objection,  don't 
hesitate  to  say  so,"  she  continued, "  because 
I  don't  mind  telling  him  that  you  can't  go. 
But  he  asked,  as  a  great  favor,  to  be  al 
lowed  to  take  you." 

Miss  Gushing  looked  at  the  bishop.  His 
face  was  expressionless.  She  gave  a  ner 
vous  little  laugh.  "  Of  course  I  have  n't 
the  least  objection,"  she  said.  "  I  am 
much  flattered." 

"  That  's  so  good  of  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Braybrooke,  with  her  delightful  smile.  "  It 
will  please  Willie,  and  it  will  be  perfectly 
safe,  because  he  has  Planet."  She  turned 
and  left  them. 


160  GALLOPS    2 

Miss  Gushing  stood  facing  the  bishop. 
Her  bosom  heaved,  but  she  said  nothing. 
At  first  it  seemed  as  if  the  bishop  were 
about  to  speak ;  then  his  mouth  shut  tightly. 

At  this  juncture  Mr.  Colfax  appeared. 

"  My  cart  is  here,"  he  said  to  Miss 
Gushing,  and  bowed. 

Without  a  word  Miss  Gushing  followed. 
From  the  veranda  she  climbed  over  an 
enormous  wheel,  and  found  herself  driving 
to  the  church  in  a  primrose-yellow  dog 
cart  behind  Planet,  who,  with  extra  heavy 
shoes,  was  performing  showily.  She  fell 
to  thinking  about  the  situation. 

"  He  's  not  bad-looking,  is  he?  "  began 
Mr.  Colfax. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon?  "  said  Miss  Gush 
ing,  aroused  from  her  thoughts. 

Mr.  Colfax  repeated  the  question. 

"  He  has  reference  to  the  baby,  I  pre 
sume,"  thought  Miss  Gushing.  "  He  's  a 
sweet  dear,"  she  replied. 

"  He  is,"  said  Mr.  Colfax ;  "  and  though 
that  splint  on  his  off  fore  leg  is  conspicu 
ous,  he  's  never  gone  sore  with  it.  A  good 
blister  would  take  it  off." 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      161 

Miss  Gushing  looked  at  him  in  horror. 
Then  she  appreciated  that  there  had  been 
a  misunderstanding,  and  held  her  peace. 
As  they  pulled  up  in  the  village  street  be 
fore  the  church,  Mr.  Colfax  was  still  dis 
cussing  Planet,  his  breeding,  conformation, 
and  manners ;  but  it  was  all  lost  upon  Miss 
Gushing.  During  the  last  ten  minutes  she 
had  been  formulating  an  artifice  which 
promised  to  save  her  from  committing  the 
quasi-sacrilege  that  was  imminent.  The 
afternoon  was  warm,  and  she  planned  to 
linger  in  the  vestibule  until  all  had  gone 
into  the  church,  under  the  pretext  of  a 
headache,  which  the  close  air  indoors 
would  aggravate.  The  church  inside,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  was  damp  and  pleasantly 
cool,  not  having  been  opened  for  several 
days;  but  well-bred  people  do  not  insist 
too  much  upon  facts. 

Miss  Cushing's  artifice  promised  success. 
The  entire  party  passed  in  together,  and 
no  one  urged  her  to  enter.  Only  Mr. 
Colfax  remained  outside,  raptly  watching 
Planet's  action  as  the  groom  drove  him 

up  and  down  the  village  street.    But  Miss 
11 


162  GALLOPS    2 

Gushing  knew  that  Mr.  Colfax  was  to  be 
the  godfather,  and  she  felt  that  he,  too, 
would  come  in  a  reasonable  time  before 
the  ceremony  was  to  begin. 

To  avoid  being  seen  from  the  street,  she 
withdrew  into  a  corner  of  the  vestibule 
close  to  the  leather  swinging-doors  which 
opened  into  one  of  the  side  aisles.  Here 
she  stood,  ready  to  assume  an  attitude  of 
entering,  when,  to  her  alarm,  she  heard 
voices  of  people  approaching  from  the  in 
side.  The  owners  of  the  voices  stopped, 
apparently  close  to  the  doors,  and  began 
a  conference. 

"  What  did  the  man  say  ?  "  she  heard  a 
woman's  voice  demand.  She  recognized 
the  speaker  as  Mrs.  Braybrooke. 

"  He  said  that  her  leader  ran  away  and 
smashed  things  up,"  a  man's  voice  an 
swered.  The  man's  voice'was  Braybrooke's. 

"  Well,  could  n't  she  have  come  in  an 
other  trap?"  Mrs.  Braybrooke  demanded. 

"The  man  said  that  they  went  into  a 
ditch  and  put  her  shoulder  out,"  replied 
Braybrooke. 

"What  a  pity!"  said  Mrs.  Braybrooke. 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      163 

"  Poor  Kitty  will  be  laid  up  again  for  the 
hunting." 

"  That  must  be  the  Kitty,"  said  Miss 
Gushing  to  herself,  "  who  was  going  to  be 
godmother."  A  feeling  of  relief  came  over 
her.  "  They  '11  postpone  it,"  she  thought. 

"Yes,"  said  Braybrooke,  on  the  other 
side  of  the  doors ;  "  it  will  very  likely  lay 
her  up.  I  wonder  if  she  hurt  her  horses. 
Her  leader  was  that  mare  she  was  going  to 
sell  Mr.  Heminway  for  Anita." 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Braybrooke,  "I  'm 
sorry  for  Kitty,  but  what  are  we  going  to 
do?" 

"  You  might  ask  Jane  to  take  her  place," 
suggested  Braybrooke. 

"  If  I  do  that,"  Mrs.  Braybrooke  replied, 
"  Emily  and  Josephine  will  both  think  it 
strange  that  I  did  n't  ask  them." 

"But  you  can't  ask  them  all,"  said 
Braybrooke.  "  Have  n't  they  any  sense  ?  " 

Mrs.  Braybrooke  ignored  his  question. 
"  I  wish  I  knew  what  to  do,"  she  said 
helplessly.  "  There  was,  of  course,  a  spe 
cial  reason  for  having  Kitty,  but — "  She 
stopped.  "  It  would  be  much  easier," 


164  GALLOPS    2 

she  continued,  "  to  have  somebody  whom 
Josephine  and  Emily  and  Jane  did  n't 
know  at  all.  I  wish  I  could  get  Sally 
Thompson  here  from  Washington." 

"  It 's  all  right  to  wish,"  said  Braybrooke, 
"  but  we  've  got  to  get  a  godmother.  The 
bishop  is  waiting." 

"  It  's  all  right  for  you  to  say  we  've  got 
to  get  somebody,"  said  Mrs.  Braybrooke, 
"but  whom  can  we  get?" 

"  Well,"  said  Braybrooke,  "  if  you  want 
somebody  outside  of  our  own  crowd,  it  is 
easy  to  choose,  because  there  is  only  one 
such  here." 

For  the  moment  Miss  Cushing's  heart 
stopped  beating.  It  was  like  the  age-long 
moment  of  a  nightmare. 

"  It  was  awfully  civil  of  her  to  come 
down  with  the  bishop,"  she  heard  Bray 
brooke  continue,  "just  because  she  was  an 
old  friend  of  my  mother's;  and  if  we  ex 
plained  the  thing  she  would  probably  help 
us  out" 

"  It  was  very  sweet  of  her,"  said  Mrs. 
Braybrooke ;  "  but  she  has  never  known  us, 
and  she  might  think  it  was  indelicate." 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      165 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  said  Braybrooke. 
"  We  did  n't  think  it  was  indelicate  of  her 
to  come  down  without  an  invitation,  did 
we?" 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Braybrooke ;  "  we  took 
it  as  a  compliment." 

"  She  would  take  it  as  a  compliment, 
too,"  Braybrooke  replied.  "  Anyway,"  he 
continued,  "  it  's  like  being  asked  to  be 
a  groomsman  or  pall-bearer;  one  can't 
refuse." 

Miss  Gushing  heard  no  more,  because 
she  had  fled  to  the  church  door.  In  the 
doorway  stood  Mr.  Colfax,  exhaling  a  last 
puff  from  his  cigarette. 

"Where  are  you  going ?"  he  inquired. 
"  Is  anything  the  matter?  " 

"  Nothing,"  said  Miss  Gushing.  "  I 
thought  it  would  be  cooler  outside." 

"  I  think  you  are  mistaken,"  said  Mr. 
Colfax ;  "  it  is  much  cooler  in  the  church. 
I  have  n't  been  in  yet,  but  I  know.  It 's  aw 
fully  hot  in  the  street.  Are  you  feeling  ill  ?  " 

"Well,"  said  Miss  Gushing,  vaguely, 
"you  see,  I  don't  feel  exactly  ill."  She 
paused. 


166  GALLOPS    2 

"  I  'm  sorry,"  said  Mr.  Colfax,  sympa 
thetically.  "  I  'd  better  tell  Mrs.  Bray 
brooke." 

"Oh,  don't!"  exclaimed  Miss  Gushing. 
"Please  don't!" 

"But,"  said  Mr.  Colfax,  "my  sister 
would  be  angry  with  me  if  I  did  n't." 

"  Oh,"  said  Miss  Gushing,  "  I  feel  very 
much  better.  In  fact,  I  feel  quite  well." 

Mr.  Colfax  looked  at  her  with  polite 
doubt,  but  she  made  a  gesture  of  protest. 

"  Then,"  said  he,  "  shall  we  go  in?  " 

Miss  Gushing  did  not  answer  him,  be 
cause  the  leather  doors  opened  into  the 
vestibule  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Braybrooke 
came  through  them. 

"  I  say,"  said  Braybrooke,  "  we  Ve  been 
hunting  everywhere  for  you  two." 

Miss  Gushing  folded  her  hands  and 
waited  in  silence. 

"  I  was  just  coming  in,"  said  Mr.  Colfax, 
and  he  threw  away  his  cigarette. 

WHEN  Miss  Gushing  arrived  at  the  Bray- 
brookes'  house  after  the  ceremony,  Mr. 
Colfax  handed  her  out  of  the  cart. 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      167 

"  I  think  we  are  a  pretty  fine  team  at  a 
christening,"  he  observed. 

Miss  Gushing  smiled  in  a  dazed  sort  of 
way  and  nodded  her  head.  She  looked 
toward  the  bishop,  who  was  standing  in 
the  doorway.  The  bishop  caught  her 
look,  but  pretended  not  to,  and  disap 
peared  into  the  house.  He  did  not  feel 
that  he  had  anything  to  say  at  that  mo 
ment  which  would  be  helpful. 

Miss  Gushing  went  into  the  house,  too, 
in  a  mechanical  way.  Her  ideas  and  feel 
ings  were  so  confused  that  she  had  no  ideas 
left,  and  her  feelings  were  rapidly  reaching 
the  point  of  outburst.  In  fact,  she  did 
not  know  whether  to  laugh  or  cry,  and  she 
was  ready  to  do  either.  Inside  everybody 
was  gathering  in  the  big  library,  and  she 
could  see  the  servants  bringing  trays  on 
which  were  champagne-glasses.  Mr.  Colfax 
followed  her  and  found  a  chair  for  her,  and 
presently  she  was  surrounded  by  a  group  of 
men.  Besides  Mr.  Colfax  were  Mr.  Car- 
teret,  Mr.  Varick,  and  other  members  of  the 
hunt.  The  bishop  and  Braybrooke,  who 
were  passing,  stopped  and  joined  the  circle. 


168  GALLOPS    2 

"There  is  the  greater  responsibility 
upon  Miss  Gushing,"  Mr.  Carteret  was 
saying,  "  because  so  little  can  be  expected 
from  the  infant's  godfather." 

Miss  Gushing  did  not  have  to  reply,  be 
cause  everybody  laughed,  even  Mr.  Colfax. 

"  Then  you  ought  to  come  down  soon/' 
Mr.  Colfax  said  to  Miss  Gushing,  "and 
begin  your  work.  It  might  amuse  you  to 
come  down  next  Monday.  We  run  a  drag. 
Have  you  ever  seen  a  drag  hunt?  " 

Miss  Gushing  stiffened  up  in  her  chair. 
The  opportunity  for  her  to  declare  herself 
and  satisfy  her  conscience  had  come. 

"Mr.  Colfax,"  she  said  solemnly,  "do 
you  believe  it  right  to  pursue  a  harmless 
little  animal  with  fierce  hounds  ?  " 

A  heavy  silence  hung  over  the  room. 

"  Animal  ?  "  said  Mr.  Colfax. 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Gushing;  "I  said 
animal." 

"But  it  's  a  drag,"  said  Mr.  Colfax, 
aghast. 

"  You  intimate  that  a  drag  is  not  an  ani 
mal.  Please  explain,"  said  Miss  Gushing. 

Then  Mr.  Colfax  explained.     The  men 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      169 

shut  their  mouths  tightly,  and  each  looked 
straight  ahead  of  him  at  some  selected 
point  on  the  opposite  wall. 

In  the  silence  that  followed  after  Mr. 
Colfax  had  finished,  the  people  in  the  room 
heard  Miss  Gushing  murmur  to  herself, 
"Well,  well,  well!" 

She  said  nothing  else. 

After  a  pause  the  bishop  began  to  speak. 
"  Miss  Gushing,"  he  said,  "  is  very  tender 
hearted,  and  when  she  reads  in  the  news 
papers  of  drag-hunting,  and  notes  the  list 
of  those  who  are  *  in  at  the  death,'  her  heart 
is  full  of  pity  and  sympathy  for  what  she 
had  quite  naturally  supposed  to  be  an  ani 
mate  quarry.  Moreover,  she  is  an  officer 
of  a  very  admirable  society  for  the  preven 
tion  of  cruelty  to  dumb  creatures,  and  it  is 
her  duty  to  interfere  whenever  she  may 
chance  to  observe  it.  Hence  this  misap 
prehension." 

Braybrooke  made  a  low  exclamation. 
"  Miss  Gushing,"  he  said,  "  I  am  awfully 
glad  to  find  this  out." 

Miss  Gushing  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 
"Why?  "she  said. 


170  GALLOPS    2 

"  Because  I  have  a  case  for  you,"  he 
replied.  "  You  see,  our  laundress  at  the 
kennels  poured  a  kettle  of  hot  water  over 
one  of  the  hounds." 

"  Atrocious ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Gushing. 
"  Give  me  her  name ! " 

"  I  don't  want  her  punished,"  said  Bray- 
brooke,  "  but  I  want  her  prevented  from 
doing  it  again.  Can  your  society  do  that? 
You  see,  she  sometimes  drinks  too  much." 

"  I  shall  have  our  agent  sent  down  at 
once,"  said  Miss  Gushing.  "  Give  me  her 
name." 

"  She  is  a  Mrs.  Hennessey,"  said  Bray- 
brooke ;  "  I  think  Patrick  is  her  husband's 
name." 

"  Hennessey ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Gushing. 

"  Yes,"  Braybrooke  replied. 

At  this  moment  the  circle  of  men  parted 
to  admit  Mrs.  Braybrooke. 

"  You  must  n't  monopolize  all  the  men," 
she  said,  with  a  smile,  to  Miss  Gushing. 
"  Besides—"  She  stopped  and  half  turned 
as  the  rattle  of  glasses  on  the  metal  tray 
sounded  behind  her. 

"  I  say,"   said  Willie  Colfax,  "  I  think 


BRAYBROOKE  BABY'S  GODMOTHER      171 

you  people  ought  to  drink  the  health  of 
the  godparents." 

"I  think,"  said  the  bishop,  "that  it 
would  be  eminently  proper  to  toast  the 
godmother,  particularly  as  the  circum 
stances,  I  might  say,  are  somewhat  un 
usual." 

"They  prove,"  observed  Braybrooke, 
quite  reverently,  "  that  the  Lord  will  pro 
vide,  don't  they  ?  " 

"  They  do,"  said  the  bishop.  Then  they 
drank  Miss  Cushing's  health. 

"  And  now,"  said  Miss  Gushing,  beam 
ing,  "  I  propose  a  toast  to  my  godson.  I 
neglected  to  bring  his  porringer  with  me, 
but  I  shall  attend  to  that  later."  And  they 
drank  that  toast,  too. 

A  servant  approached  the  bishop  and 
spoke  a  few  words  in  a  whisper. 

"  Henrietta,"  said  the  bishop,  "  it  seems 
that  we  must  rush  for  our  train.  The  car 
riage  has  been  waiting  some  time." 

They  hurried  out  in  a  confusion  of 
handshakings  and  got  into  the  trap. 

"  Good-by,  everybody ! "  cried  Miss 
Gushing,  and  they  all  answered  "  Good- 


i;2  GALLOPS    2 

by,"  and  waved  their  hands,  except  Mr. 
Colfax,  who  stood  on  the  veranda  with  a 
bottle  of  champagne,  and  called  after 
them :  "  Come  back !  You  Ve  forgotten 
to  drink  to  the  godfather ! " 

When  the  trap  turned  into  the  highway, 
the  bishop  looked  thoughtfully  at  Miss 
Gushing.  "Well,"  he  said,  "you  have 
discovered  a  case." 

Miss  Gushing  shot  him  a  quiet  glance, 
and  gazed  off  over  the  pasture-lands,  on 
which  stretched  the  long  afternoon  shadows 
of  the  elms. 

The  bishop  saw  that  she  was  smiling,  and 
made  no  reply.  He,  too,  looked  off  over 
the  meadows. 


THE   ECHO   HUNT 


VI 

THE   ECHO   HUNT 

"TI 7HARTON  came  in  from  the  stables, 
VV     and  met  his  wife  in  the  hallway. 
He  stopped  and  smiled. 

"  There  's  a  great  game  on  out  there/* 
he  said,  making  a  gesture  toward  the  ter 
race  behind  the  house. 

"  The  children  ?  "  she  asked. 

He  nodded.  "  It 's  something  that  has 
developed  since  I  've  been  away — hunters 
and  hounds  and  steeplechasers.  You 
ought  to  see  Bub,"  he  added. 

"  Is  he  bad  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Wharton ;  "  but 
that  was  n't  what  I  meant.  It  's  his  cos 
tume.  He  's  magnificent/* 

She  smiled. 

175 


176  GALLOPS    2 

"  Do  you  know  where  they  have  picked 
up  their  horse-talk?"  he  went  on. 

"  I  suppose  from  Williams  and  the  men 
at  the  stables,"  she  answered. 

He  shook  his  head.  "I  don't  think 
so,"  he  said.  "  They  have  a  lot  of  English 
expressions  that  no  one  about  here  uses. 
Williams  never  took  care  of  hunters  before 
he  came  to  us." 

"Then  I  don't  know,"  she  said;  "  they 
have  n't  used  them  before  me.  Are  they 
still  at  it?" 

"  I  fancy  so,"  he  replied.  "  Come  and 
see.  We  can  watch  them  from  behind 
the  kitchen  lattice." 

She  threw  a  golf-cape  over  her  shoulders 
and  followed  him.  There  were  three 
children  on  the  terrace,  surrounded  with 
the  sticks,  the  fragments  of  things,  the 
broken  tops  that  furnish  the  child's  play- 
world.  In  the  center  was  a  hurdle  made 
of  three  laths  which  were  supported  at  the 
ends  with  bricks. 

"  They  seem  to  be  schooling  over  that 
jump,"  whispered  Wharton.  "  Look  at 
your  baby." 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  177 

Bub,  who  was  mounted  on  a  broom- 
handle,  was  galloping  in  circles,  apparently 
warming  up  for  a  go  at  the  hurdle.  Over 
his  normal  clothes  he  wore  what  seemed 
to  be  a  square  of  red  flannel,  in  which  a 
hole  had  been  cut  for  the  head.  It  was 
belted  at  the  waist  with  a  strap,  and  was 
trimmed  off  above  the  knees  to  give  the 
effect  of  a  huntsman's  coat.  His  feet 
were  in  his  own  rubber  boots,  which,  how 
ever,  were  adorned  with  brown-paper  tops. 
From  the  ankle  of  one  dangled  a  rusty 
spur.  On  his  head,  or  rather  inclosing 
his  head,  was  a  man's  cork  polo-helmet. 

"  Where  do  you  suppose  he  got  those 
things?"  said  Mrs.  Wharton. 

"  Give  it  up,"  said  Wharton.  "  Proba 
bly  the  coat  is  Elinora's  handiwork.  He  's 
an  M.  F.  H.,  or  something,  turned  out  in 
pink." 

"Hush!"  whispered  Mrs.  Wharton. 
The  two  older  children  were  talking. 

"  It 's  my  turn,"  said  Elinora.     She  was 
mounted  astride  a  small  spotted  rocking- 
horse  from  which  the  rockers  had  disap 
peared. 
12 


1 78  GALLOPS    2 

"  But  truly,  Elinora,"  said  John, 
"  Shamrock  is  n't  up  to  your  weight." 
John  looked  at  the  rocking-horse  and  then 
at  Elinora.  "  I  don't  think,"  he  observed 
doubtfully,  "  that  that  horse  would  carry 
thirteen  stone  to  hounds." 

"  Thirteen  stone!  "  whispered  Wharton. 
"Did  you  hear?" 

"Yes,  he  would,"  replied  Elinora. 
"  Did  n't  he  take  the  prize  at  the  Dublin 
show?" 

John  still  looked  doubtful.  "  Let  me 
go  first,"  he  said. 

"  No,"  said  Elinora;  "  it  's  my  turn." 

"Well,"  said  John,  "but  please  be 
careful  this  time,  and  don't  drag  your 
hind  legs." 

He  looked  apprehensively  at  the  rock 
ing-horse  and  then  at  the  hurdle. 

"  I  '11  try,"  said  Elinora. 

"  I  '11  take  a  rail  off,"  suggested  John. 

The  top  lath  was  a  foot  from  the  ground. 

"No;  don't!  "  said  Elinora. 

She  seized  her  mount  by  mane  and  tail, 
and  after  a  few  preliminary  rearings  and 
curvets,  cantered  cautiously  at  the  ob- 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  179 

stacle,  checked,  lifted  the  fore  legs  over, 
and  then  leaped  with  her  own.  However, 
when  she  raised  the  rocking-horse's  front 
legs  it  depressed  those  behind.  There 
was  the  sound  of  tumbling  bricks.  The 
hurdle  was  wrecked. 

"Oh,  Elinora!"  said  John,  sadly. 
"  Whirlwind  could  have  jumped  it." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  said  Elinora. 

But  Bub  only  yelled  and  made  his 
broomstick  prance. 

"  Destruction  appeals  to  Bubby,"  whis 
pered  his  father  behind  the  lattice. 

"  He  's  only  six,"  said  Mrs.  Wharton. 

"  I  told  you,"  said  John,  mournfully,  as 
he  set  to  repairing  the  hurdle,  "  Shamrock 
is  too  green,  or  something.  You  've  put 
a  leg  on  him.  You  'd  better  do  it  up  in 
wet  blandages." 

"  Bandages"  said  Elinora,  "  not  blan 
dages" 

She  became  absorbed  in  examining  the 
legs  of  the  rocking-horse,  and  John  re 
stored  the  hurdle. 

"  Do  you  really  think,"  inquired  Elinora, 
"  that  we  ought  to  do  his  leg  up?  " 


i8o  GALLOPS    2 

John  rode  over  and  laid  his  mount  on 
the  ground.  It  was  a  stick  with  a  wooden 
horse's  head  on  the  end  of  it.  Then  he 
gravely  ran  his  hand  down  the  rocking- 
horse's  hind  legs. 

"There  's  fever  in  them,"  he  said.  "  I 
really  think  he  ought  to  be  fired,"  he 
added,  with  more  interest.  "  Let  's  do  it 
with  matches." 

"  No,"  said  Elinora ;  "  it 's  cruel."  She 
looked  regretfully  at  some  charred  marks 
which  a  piece  of  red-hot  barrel-hoop  had 
made  on  Shamrock's  front  legs. 

John  picked  up  his  mount.  "  I  wish 
Whirlwind  had  legs,"  he  observed ;  "  but," 
he  added  resignedly,  "  he  can  beat  you, 
and  he  can  jump  higher,  too." 

"  There  's  the  bandages,"  said  Elinora. 
She  produced  a  dust-cloth,  tore  it  in 
strips,  and  gave  one  of  them  to  John. 

"  You  do  the  other  leg,"  she  said. 

"  That  's  why  the  parlor-maid's  dust- 
cloths  have  been  disappearing,"  whispered 
Mrs.  Wharton. 

"No,"  said  John;  "I  have  n't  time. 
I  've  got  to  jump  Whirlwind." 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  181 

He  turned  away  and  began  a  prelimi 
nary  gallop  before  going  at  the  hurdle. 

Bub  had  watched  the  treatment  of 
Shamrock's  legs  till  John  turned  away; 
then  facing  his  broomstick  at  the  jump, 
he  charged  it,  took  off  too  far  away, 
floundered  through  the  laths,  and  rolled 
over  on  his  head. 

Mrs.  Wharton  started,  but  her  husband 
caught  her  arm. 

"  He  's  not  hurt,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  Bubby,"  exclaimed  John,  "why 
don't  you  behave?  Did  n't  we  say  you 
were  too  little  to  jump  anything  but  small 
drains?" 

Bub  rose  and  looked  apprehensively  at 
John.  He  saw  that  there  was  no  imminent 
danger,  and  the  anxiety  faded  from  his  face. 

"  I  'm  the  first  whip,"  he  said  stolidly. 
He  glanced  at  his  costume  as  if  for  con 
firmation,  and  his  eyes  lingered  proudly 
on  the  spur. 

"  You  're  a  naughty  boy,"  said  John. 
"  Don't  you  ever  touch  that  hurdle  again." 

Bub  kicked  contemptuously  at  the 
laths. 


182  GALLOPS    2 

A  flash  came  into  John's  eyes. 

"What  shall  I  do  with  my  little  son?" 
murmured  Mrs.  Wharton  behind  the  lat 
tice. 

John  stepped  forward,  but  stopped  as 
he  heard  a  shout  from  Elinora. 

"The  hounds  are  out!"  screamed  Eli 
nora. 

The  beagle,  the  family  fox-terrier,  and 
a  setter  pup  suddenly  emerged  from  the 
dog-house  near  the  stables  and  tore  across 
the  terrace.  Elinora  went  after  them, 
shouting:  "Gone  away!"  She  was  fol 
lowed  by  John.  As  they  disappeared 
around  the  corner  of  the  house,  Bub  again 
kicked  at  the  hurdle.  Then  he  followed. 

"  Well,"  said  Wharton,  behind  the  lat 
tice,  "what  do  you  think  of  your  chil 
dren?" 

She  shook  her  head  ,and  smiled.  "  If 
they  were  to  be  horse-dealers  or  stable- 
boys,  I  should  feel  encouraged,"  she  said. 
"Where  do  you  suppose  they  picked  up 
all  those  ideas?" 

"  That 's  what  I  asked  you." 

"  In  the  mornings  they  go  off  to  the 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  183 

woods  on  the  hill,"  she  observed,  "  and  in 
the  afternoons  they  play  on  the  terrace, 
but  very  rarely  about  the  stables." 

"  Have  you  taken  them  to  the  ken 
nels?"  he  asked. 

"  No,"  she  answered  ;    "  not  this  year." 
"  It 's  odd,"  he  said,  and  they  went  into 
the  house. 

THE  next  day  Wharton  went  hunting. 
The  hounds  found  a  fox,  and  followed  him 
six  miles  to  the  stream  that  flowed  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill  back  of  Wharton's  house. 
Here  the  pack  checked.  The  huntsman 
came  up  and  cast  down  the  stream  in  the 
direction  of  a  ford. 

"That  fellow  is  wrong,"  said  Wharton 
to  himself. 

There  was  an  English  girl  out  that  day 
whom  Wharton  had  just  met.  He  liked 
her.  She  was  handsome,  and  she  went 
well.  He  rode  along  beside  her. 

"  The  huntsman  is  making  a  mistake," 
he  said;  "if  you  come  with  me  I  think 
we  shall  have  the  hounds  to  ourselves 
when  they  pick  the  line  up  again.  A  few 


184  GALLOPS    2 

hundred  yards  up-stream  there  is  a  fallen 
tree  that  bridges  the  water.  I  suspect 
that  the  fox  has  crossed  on  it.  It  leads 
to  the  usual  runway  on  the  other  side. 
Farther  up,  half  a  mile  or  more,  is  another 
ford.  Beyond  the  ford  the  valley  turns 
sharply  to  the  left  and  winds  around  that 
hill.  If  we  get  on  the  hillside  we  com 
mand  each  of  the  two  lines  that  the  fox 
can  take.  When  the  hounds  come  along, 
they  will  cross  on  the  log,  but  the  field 
must  go  around  by  the  ford,  and  we  shall 
have  ten  minutes'  start." 

"  You  're  very  well  posted  in  wood 
craft,"  she  said,  smiling. 

"  No,"  answered  Wharton ;  "  but  this  is 
my  own  country.  My  house  is  over  the 
hill.  The  hounds  are  to  meet  there  on 
Saturday.  I  hope  you  will  be  out." 

"  I  hope  to  be,"  she  said.  "  Shall  we 
slip  away  from  the  field?" 

He  nodded,  and  they  turned  their  horses 
up  the  stream,  rode  past  the  fallen  tree, 
crossed  at  the  upper  ford,  and  slowly  as 
cended  the  wooded  hillside.  From  time 
to  time  they  could  see  the  huntsman  on 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  185 

his  gray  horse  working  the  pack  in  the 
bottom-land,  and  when  the  covert  hid  him 
they  could  hear  his  horn. 

"  Look,"  said  Wharton.  "  He  has  given 
up  his  ford  theory.  He  thinks  now  that 
the  fox  doubled  back.  Presently  he  '11 
find  out  that  that  is  wrong,  too,  and  then 
he  '11  swing  around  through  the  woods  and 
work  up  the  stream." 

"  You  are  really  very  wonderful,"  she 
said,  laughing. 

He  bowed. 

"  As  I  told  you,"  he  answered,  "  I  hap 
pen  to  know  this  bit  of  country.  I  '11  show 
you  a  jump  I  once  saw  a  woman  take. 
We  '11  have  time. 

"She  was  a  stranger,"  Wharton  went 
on,  "  and  she  rode  hard.  We  were  coming 
over  this  hill  very  fast,  and  she  went  at 
that  rail  fence  you  see  ahead." 

"  That  's  not  such  a  very  nasty-looking 
fence,"  observed  Miss  Melville. 

"No,"  said  Wharton;  "but  there  is  a 
twelve-foot  drop  on  the  other  side  into  a 
road.  I  measured  it  afterward.  Come 
and  look  at  it." 


i86  GALLOPS    2 

The  girl  shuddered  and  turned  her 
head. 

"  I  don't  want  to  see  it,"  she  said. 

"  Do  you  expect  to  see  her  ghost  can 
tering  down  the  road?"  asked  Wharton. 
"  I  fancy  that  is  what  ought  to  happen  if 
we  were  in  a  real  English  wood.  This 
would  be  an  especially  good  spot  for 
ghosts,"  he  added,  "  on  account  of  the 
echoes  that  come  around  the  shoulder  of 
the  hill.  On  the  other  side,  where  we 
were  first,  we  could  hear  the  horn.  On 
this  side  one  can't  hear  it,  but  we  shall  get 
the  echo  presently." 

"  Really,"  said  the  girl,  "  I  don't  believe 
in  ghosts,  but  I  should  like  to  hear  the 
echo." 

"Well,"  said  Wharton,— they  were 
standing  by  the  fence, — "  the  strange  thing 
about  this  jump — "  He  broke  off  as  the 
sound  of  voices  came  from  the  road  below. 
"  The  strange  thing — "  he  repeated  ab 
sently,  and  stopped  again.  He  motioned 
her  to  be  silent,  and  slipped  off  his  horse. 

Just  then,  faint  but  clear,  came  the 
echoed  "  t-o-o-o-t,  t-o-o-o-t!" — the  long- 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  187 

drawn  note  of  the  horn  when  the  hunts 
man  is  calling  in  the  hounds. 

"  Is  that  an  echo?  "  asked  Miss  Melville. 

Wharton  nodded.  The  next  moment  he 
started  and  turned  his  head  intently. 

"Did  you  hear  that?"  said  a  voice  in 
the  road.  It  was  a  child's  voice ;  Wharton 
recognized  it  as  Elinora's. 

Then  another  child's  voice  sounded, 
clumsily  imitating  the  echo. 

"  That  's  Bub,"  said  Wharton  under  his 
breath.  He  turned  toward  Miss  Melville, 
who  was  farther  away  from  the  fence. 

"Those  are  my  children,"  he  whispered ; 
"  I  '11  give  them  a  surprise.  Will  you  hold 
my  horse?  " 

He  was  stretching  out  his  hand  with  the 
bridle-rein,  when  a  new  voice  came  from 
the  road.  Miss  Melville  started,  and  the 
color  left  her  face. 

"  The  Echo  Hunt  is  having  sport  to 
day,"  the  voice  said.  It  was  a  man's  low- 
pitched  voice,  and  spoke  with  an  English 
intonation. 

"You  bet  we  are!"  a  child  answered. 
That  was  John. 


i88  GALLOPS    2 

A  pleasant  laugh  came  in  the  man's 
voice.  "  I  must  bet,  must  I,  you  little 
Yankee  1  I  've  never  needed  that  ad 
vice." 

The  man  laughed  again.  Wharton 
looked  at  Miss  Melville.  Her  bosom  rose 
and  fell  excitedly. 

"  What  's  the  matter?  "  he  asked. 

She  shook  her  head.  "  Nothing,"  she 
answered.  Wharton  gave  her  the  rein, 
tiptoed  to  the  fence,  and  looked  over  the 
rails.  Down  in  the  road,  in  a  low  phaeton 
drawn  by  a  fat  gray  pony,  sat  a  strange 
man  surrounded  by  the  Wharton  children. 
The  man  seemed  about  forty.  His  face 
was  covered  with  a  sandy  beard.  He  wore 
clothes  of  brown  homespun  and  dogskin 
gloves,  and  on  his  head  was  a  tweed  cap. 

The  echo  sounded  again. 

"Hush!"  said  Elinora. 

The  man  pulled  up  the  pony,  which  had 
started  to  walk,  and  listened. 

"They  seem  to  be  working  this  way," 
he  said.  "  We  '11  get  a  burst  yet." 

"Where  ought  Bub  to  go?"  asked 
John. 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  189 

The  man  looked  across  toward  the  oppo 
site  hillside  and  pointed  to  a  patch  of  woods. 

"I  think,"  he  said,  "that  a  knowing 
huntsman  like  John  would  send  the  first 
whip  to  the  far  side  of  that  bit  of  covert. 
Then,  you  see,  if  he  steals  away — " 

"  I  thought,"  interrupted  Elinora,  "that 
we  were  hunting  the  stump-tailed — "  she 
hesitated. 

"Quite  right!  It  is  she,  the  stump- 
tailed  vixen,"  said  the  man.  "  Listen," 
he  added.  The  echo  brought  a  faint,  short 
"  toot,"  and  then,  after  a  pause,  another 
and  then  another. 

"They  Ve  gone  into  covert,"  he  went 
on.  "  Perhaps  they  '11  happen  on  the  old 
girl  curled  up  in  a  hollow  log.  Then 
we  '11  hear  something." 

"What?"  asked  Bub. 

"  You  wait,"  said  the  man. 

They  waited  in  silence  for  a  few  mo 
ments,  but  the  echo  did  not  come  again. 

Wharton  turned  and  looked  for  Miss 
Melville.  She  was  walking  his  horse 
deeper  in  the  woods.  Her  back  was 
turned  to  him. 


190  GALLOPS    2 

"  I  ought  to  go,"  he  thought.  Then 
he  heard  Elinora's  voice,  and  he  peered 
through  the  rails  again. 

"Tell  us,"  said  Elinora,  "about  the 
race — you  know,  the  what-you-may-call- 
'em  handicap — and  about  Whirlwind." 

"The  Tunbridgeshire ?  "  said   the  man. 

"  Yes,"  said  Elinora. 

"  Please  do,"  said  John ;  "  and  how  you 
lost  your  leg." 

Bub,  who  was  sitting  between  the  man's 
knees,  patted  his  left  leg  with  an  expres 
sion  of^awful  satisfaction. 

"  Well,"  the  man  began,  "  there  was  the 
favorite,  Morning-star;  and  Egyptian; 
and  Glengarry,  that  ran  second  the  year 
before  in  the  National;  and  Whirlwind. 
And  there  was  a  field  of  others — near  a 
dozen — with  no  class  or  heart." 

"  What  's  that?  "  said  Elinora. 

"They  were  n't  race-horses,"  he  said. 

"  And  you  lay  back  on  Whirlwind  till 
the  second  time  at  the  Liverpool,"  put  in 
John.  "  Now  go  on." 

"  You  little  beggars,"  exclaimed  the 
man,  "you  know  the  story  by  heart!" 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  191 

"  Not  the  part  where  you  lost  your 
leg,"  protested  John. 

"Yes,  you  do,"  said  the  man;  "I  '11 
not  tell  you  another  word." 

"Oh,  please! "said  John. 

"  Not  a  word,"  said  the  man. 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment;  then 
John  spoke.  "  It  must  be  fine,"  he  said, 
"  to  have  a  wooden  leg  like  yours  if  you 
were  captured  by  the  Indians.  When 
they  tortured  you,  you  could  just  laugh 
at  them." 

"Yes,"  said  the  man,  pleasantly,  "that 
would  be  a  ripping  joke  on  the  redskins — a 
ripping  joke,"  he  repeated.  Then  he  caught 
the  gaze  of  Elinora's  eyes  looking  up  into 
his  face,  and  he  turned  his  own  away. 

"  It  must  be  awful,"  she  said ;  "  and 
you  can't  ever  ride  again?"  Her  lip 
trembled. 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  the  man,  cheerily  ; 
"  can't  I  ride  in  a  phaeton,  and  be  the 
M.  F.  H.  of  the  Echo  Hunt?  " 

"  You  told  us  to  say  drive  in  a  phaeton," 
said  John.  ^ 

"  So    I    did,"    said    the    man,    and    he 


192  GALLOPS     2 

laughed.  "  I  've  got  something  more  to 
tell  you  about  Whirlwind — something 
new,"  he  went  on.  "  He  's  going  to  start 
again  day  after  to-morrow  in  the  Wool 
wich  steeplechase.  A  friend  of  mine  has 
him  now,  you  know,  and  I  received  a 
letter  a  few  days  ago,  saying  that  he  was 
quite  fit.  And  so  I  have  cabled  over  a 
bit  of  a  stake  on  him.  Not  much,  you 
know, — one  should  n't  bet  beyond  one's 
means, — but  just  a  bit  for  the  fun  of  it.  If 
you  can't  bet  that  way,  you  never  should 
bet  at  all.  Promise  me  you  '11  remember 
that  when  you  have  a  stable." 

"  I  '11  promise,"  said  John. 

"  That  's  a  good  youngster,"  said  the 
man.  Then  he  leaned  back  and  laughed 
his  low,  pleasant  laugh.  He  stopped  sud 
denly.  Elinora's  eyes  were  looking  up 
into  his  face  again. 

"  The  old  horse  starts  at  very  good 
odds,"  he  said.  "  If  we  win  a  bit,  it  will 
come  handy  to  winter  the  stock."  He 
spoke  as  if  he  had  a  great  breeding-farm. 
Then  he  looked  at  the  gray  pony  and 
laughed  again.  As  his  laughter  died 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  193 

away  Wharton  heard  the  echo  rising 
again. 

"Hello!"  exclaimed  the  man  in  the 
phaeton.  "Listen!" 

There  sounded  a  "  toot- toot-toot!  toot- 
toot-toot!  "  and  again  "toot-toot-toot!" 
and  again  the  series  of  short-cut  notes. 

"They  're  off!"  he  said.  Then,  faint 
and  clear  in  the  silence  that  followed,  the 
echo  brought  the  chorus  of  the  hounds. 

"  There  's  music  for  you ! "  he  exclaimed. 

He  straightened  himself,  and  shook  the 
reins  over  the  pony. 

"Tally-ho!"  he  shouted.  "Gone 
away,  Echo  Hunt!" 

"  Gone  away ! "  screamed  the  children. 
The  man  waved  the  whip,  and  the  pony 
broke  into  a  canter.  "Sit  tight!"  he 
called,  and  they  swung  around  the  bend 
in  the  road  and  disappeared. 

WHARTON  stood  by  the  fence  a  moment. 
"  That  must  be  the  chap  who  took  the 
cottage  over  the  hill,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  I  '11  hunt  him  up  this  afternoon  and  ask 
him  to  dine." 

13 


194  GALLOPS    2 

He  turned  and  walked  toward  Miss 
Melville,  who  was  coming  back  with  his 
horse. 

"  Who  was  that  shouting?  "  she  asked. 

"  An  Englishman  who  has  the  cottage 
around  the  hill,"  he  answered.  "  Why  ?  " 

"  His  voice  gave  me  a  great  shock," 
said  the  girl.  "  It  was  like  the  voice  of  a 
friend  of  mine." 

"Ah-ha!"  said  Wharton,  gaily;  "who 
knows — perhaps  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  said  quickly ;  "  my  friend  is 
dead." 

The  tears  came  slowly  into  her  eyes. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  and 
turned  away.  "  I  am  an  ass,"  he  added 
to  himself. 

He  watched  a  great  cottonwood  leaf 
circle  down  through  the  still  air  and  settle 
on  the  ground.  Overhead  the  tree-tops 
traced  themselves  in  silhouette  against  the 
windless  blue,  and  here  and  there  in  the 
vistas  of  the  wood  a  flood  of  October  sun 
shine  came  through  to  glorify  some  frost- 
painted  maple.  Suddenly,  coming  from 
the  far  distance  into  the  stillness,  he  heard 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  195 

the  hounds  in  cry.  This  time  it  was  not 
echo.  The  sound  grew  stronger  as  he 
listened. 

"  They  're  coming,"  he  said.  "  They  '11 
cross  below  us."  He  turned,  took  his 
horse,  mounted,  and  led  the  way  through 
the  trees  at  a  gallop. 

As  Wharton  turned  into  his  driveway  that 
afternoon,  walking  a  very  tired  horse,  his 
wife,  who  was  driving  in  a  buckboard, 
overtook  him.  She  pulled  the  ponies 
down  to  a  walk. 

"Hello!"  he  said.  "We  had  a  great 
run ;  and  say,"  he  added,  "  I  Ve  made  a 
discovery." 

"  That  's  nice,"  she  answered.  "  I  Ve 
had  a  good  day  myself." 

He  looked  at  her.  "  What  's  up  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  Tell  me  your  discovery,"  she  an 
swered. 

"  I  Ve  found  out  who  it  is,"  he  said, 
"  that  has  been  playing  with  the  children." 

"Well?"  she  said. 

"  It 's  the  Englishman  who  took  Wheel- 


196  GALLOPS    2 

wright's  cottage  over  the  hill.  He  seems 
like  a  nice  chap.  Would  you  mind  hav 
ing  him  to  dinner?  " 

"  I  should  be  glad,"  she  answered.  She 
said  nothing  more,  and  flicked  a  fly  off 
the  near  pony's  withers. 

"  You  don't  seem  to  think  much  of  my 
discovery,"  he  observed. 

"  Well,  you  see,"  she  answered,  "  I  've 
made  a  discovery  of  my  own.  Look!" 
She  threw  the  robe  back,  and  disclosed 
a  tea-service  which  covered  the  bottom  of 
the  trap. 

"It  is  n't  plate,"  she  said;  "it  's  old 
English  silver.  It 's  what  I  've  been  look 
ing  for  for  years." 

"Oh,  silver,  is  it?"  said  Wharton. 
"  This  is  a  fortunate  discovery  for  me.  A 
kettle,  two  tea-pots,  besides  all  the  bowls 
and  pitchers — good  heavens,  Elizabeth!" 

"  Now  calm  yourself,"  she  said.  "  I  Ve 
got  it  actually  for  less  than  what  a  set  of 
good  Sheffield  plate  would  cost.  Some 
family  in  the  hills  that  had  it  for  years  are 
going  away,  or  something,  and  they  put 
it  on  sale  this  morning  with  the  furniture- 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  197 

and  undertaker-man  in  the  village.  Sup 
pose  somebody  else  had  happened  to  see 
it  first!" 

"  I  'm  disgusted  with  you,"  said  Whar- 
ton.  "  A  bargain  turns  a  woman  into  a 
bird  of  prey.  I  should  hope  you  would 
think  a  little  of  the  people  who  parted 
with  it  for  virtually  nothing.  Very  likely 
it  's  an  heirloom." 

"  I  suppose  it  is,"  she  said.  "  There  's 
a  coat-of-arms  on  each  piece.  I  'm  sorry 
for  them,"  she  added ;  "  but  I  'm  glad  I 
got  it,  if  they  had  to  part  with  it."  She 
drew  the  robe  up  and  covered  her  pur 
chase  again.  "  How  did  you  happen  to 
find  out,"  she  continued,  changing  the 
subject,  "  that  it  was  our  neighbor  who 
has  been  educating  the  children?  He  's 
been  in  the  cottage  six  weeks,  ever  since 
you  went  shooting  out  West,  and  I  've 
never  laid  eyes  on  him." 

"  I  '11  tell  you  when  we  get  into  the 
house,"  he  answered. 

They  had  reached  the  porte-cochere, 
and  her  groom  took  the  ponies  while  he 
waited  for  a  man  from  the  stables  to  come 


198  GALLOPS    2 

for  his  hunter.  When  the  butler  came 
out  of  the  house  to  take  in  the  silver  he 
was  still  waiting.  The  man  handed  him  a 
telegram. 

Wharton  tore  it  open  and  read  it. 

"Confound  it!"  he  said. 

His  wife  looked  at  him  apprehen 
sively. 

"  It  's  nothing  but  business,"  he  said. 
"  I  've  got  to  go  to  New  York  on  the 
afternoon  train,  and  I  don't  know  when  I 
shall  get  back.  Henderson,"  he  added  to 
the  man,  "  pack  my  bag  for  three  days." 

WHARTON  got  back  Saturday  morning  as 
the  people  were  beginning  to  arrive  for 
his  hunt  breakfast.  He  changed  hurriedly 
into  riding-clothes,  and  went  down  to 
greet  his  guests.  He  said  "  Good 
morning  "  to  the  M.  F.  H.,  brought  in  some 
farmers'  wives  who  were  sitting  shyly  in 
their  buggies,  saw  to  it  that  the  huntsman 
and  whips  got  ale  and  sandwiches,  and 
then  went  to  the  dining-room.  There  he 
saw  Wheelwright  and  Miss  Melville  eating 
breakfast  in  a  corner. 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  199 

He  caught  Henderson  as  he  moved 
through  the  crowd  and  asked  him  for 
some  coffee.  Then  he  joined  the  party 
in  the  corner. 

"I  was  telling  Miss  Melville,"  said 
Wheelwright,  "  that  we  ought  to  find  that 
fox  you  hunted  on  Wednesday.  He 
went  to  earth  not  far  from  here." 

"  That  fs  so,"  said  Wharton. 

"  We  had  better  follow  Mr.  Wharton," 
said  Miss  Melville.  "  I  think  he  has  an 
understanding  with  the  foxes,  and  knows 
where  they  are  going  beforehand.  On 
Wednesday—" 

"  Please  don't  tell  that  to  Wheelwright," 
interrupted  Wharton,  "  because  he  knows 
the  country  about  here,  too,  and  he  '11  ex 
plain  how  there  was  n't  anything  remark 
able  about  our  cast.  If  he  had  been  out 
on  Wednesday,  he  would  have  come 
along,  too,  and  very  likely  would  have 
taken  you  away  from  me.  He  is  consid 
ered  much  more  attractive  than  I." 

Miss  Melville  laughed.  "  That  may  be 
two  for  Mr.  Wheelwright,"  she  said,  "  but 
it  's  certainly  one  for  yourself." 


200  GALLOPS    2 

"  Of  course,"  said  Wharton,  "  I  '11  ad 
mit  I  'm  moderately  attractive." 

"The  man  's  here  with  your  coffee/' 
said  Wheelwright. 

Wharton  turned  and  took  the  plate  and 
coffee-cup.  Instead  of  leaving,  Hender 
son  held  out  a  package  wrapped  in  white 
tissue-paper,  and  a  long  envelop. 

"  These  were  just  left  for  you,  sir,"  he 
said. 

Wharton  glanced  at  the  envelop.  The 
handwriting  was  unfamiliar. 

"  I  don't  want  these  things,"  he  said. 
"  Put  them  with  my  mail  in  the  smoking- 
room." 

The  man  turned  away. 

"Wait,"  Wharton  called;  "I  '11  take 
the  letter.  Will  you  excuse  me,"  he  said 
to  Miss  Melville,  "  if  I  open  it?" 

She  smiled.  "  We  will,"  she  answered ; 
"  that  is,  if  you  will  tell  Mr.  Wheelwright 
and  me  who  is  sending  you  packages 
wrapped  in  white  tissue-paper." 

Wharton  set  his  plate  on  the  mantel 
shelf,  tore  off  the  end  of  the  envelop,  and 
drew  out  a  sheet  of  letter-paper.  He 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  201 

glanced  at  the  signature,  and  read  the 
first  few  sentences. 

"  This  is  from  your  tenant,  I  fancy,"  he 
said  to  Wheelwright ;  "  the  chap  who  has 
your  cottage  over  the  hill." 

"  I  got  a  note  from  him  myself  last 
night,"  said  Wheelwright.  "  He  's  going 
away." 

"  Yes ;  so  he  says,"  murmured  Whar- 
ton,  reading  on.  He  raised  his  eyes  from 
the  letter.  "  Your  suspicions,"  he  said  to 
Miss  Melville,  "are  unjust.  That  pack 
age  contains  presents  " — he  glanced  down 
again  at  the  letter — "  '  for  Miss  Elinora  and 
the  Messrs.  Wharton  of  the  Echo  Hunt.'" 

"What  does  that  mean?"  asked 
Wheelwright. 

"  It  's  a  game  he  had  with  them,"  an 
swered  Wharton. 

He  read  to  the  end,  and  ran  his  ringers 
into  the  large  envelop,  and  drew  out  one 
of  note-paper  size. 

"  He  wants  me  to  register  a  letter  for 
him,"  he  said.  "  Why  does  n't  he  regis 
ter  his  own  letters?" 

The    envelop    came    out    back    upper- 


202  GALLOPS    2 

most,  and  was  unsealed.  Wharton  turned 
it  over.  There  were  three  five-cent 
stamps  on  it.  As  he  read  the  address, 
some  one  passing  through  the  crowd  jos 
tled  his  elbow  and  shook  the  letter  from 
his  hand.  It  struck  the  floor,  and  there 
was  a  ring  of  metal,  and  a  small  object 
slipped  out  upon  the  polished  wood. 

"  Money,  money ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Mel 
ville. 

"Yes,"  said  Wharton;  "  protect  me 
from  Wheelwright." 

He  bent  hurriedly  down  and  began 
groping  for  the  thing  that  had  slipped  out. 
His  fingers  closed  on  it  under  the  flounce 
of  a  woman's  skirt.  It  was  not  a  coin. 
He  glanced  down  at  it.  There  was  a 
Victoria  Cross  in  his  hand.  He  slipped 
it  back  into  the  envelop,  and  as  he  rose 
he  wet  the  mucilage  and  sealed  the  letter. 

"  My  tenant,"  said  Wheelwright,  "  must 
be  very  much  of  a  gentleman  or  have 
great  confidence  in  you." 

"  He  never  saw  me,"  said  Wharton. 
He  half  turned  away  from  the  two,  and 
stood  staring  vacantly  into  the  crowd  with 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  203 

the  newly  sealed  envelop  covered  in  his 
hand. 

"That  accounts  for  it,"  said  Wheel 
wright. 

Miss  Melville  laughed.  "  I  am  going 
over  to  speak  to  Mrs.  Wharton,"  she  said. 
"  She  is  pouring  tea  by  the  window." 

"Yes,"  said  Wharton,  mechanically; 
"  she  '11  be  glad  to  see  you." 

The  girl  moved  away. 

"  I  say,  Wheelwright,"  he  said  in  an 
undertone,  "  this  is  a  curious  thing." 

"What?"  said  Wheelwright. 

Wharton  held  out  the  letter. 

Wheelwright  gave  a  low  exclama 
tion.  It  was  addressed  to  Miss  M.  J. 
Melville,  Ormsly  Hill,  Leicestershire, 
England. 

"  That  is  n't  our  Miss  Melville,"  said 
Wheelwright. 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  said  Wharton.  "  Her  name 
is  Mary  J.  Melville,  and  her  father's  place 
is  Ormsly  in  Leicestershire." 

"  Well,"  said  Wheelwright,  "  why  don't 
you  deliver  it  to  her?" 

"I    suppose    I   shall,"    said   Wharton; 


204  GALLOPS    2 

"  but  it  's  a  little  strange.  Besides,  I  was 
asked  to  post  it." 

He  worked  his  way  through  the  crowd 
around  the  center-table  to  the  bow- window 
where  Mrs.  Wharton  was  pouring  tea. 
Miss  Melville  was  standing  beside  her. 

"  Have  you  had  some  tea?  "  he  asked. 

"Thanks;  I  don't  care  for  any/'  she 
answered. 

Mrs.  Wharton  looked  up  at  her  hus 
band.  "  I  've  found  out  about  the  coat-of- 
arms,"  she  said,  nodding  to  the  tea-service 
before  her.  "  Miss  Melville  recognized  it." 
She  mentioned  the  family  name  which  the 
Englishman  had  signed  in  the  letter  to 
Wharton. 

"That  's  very  curious,"  Wharton  mur 
mured. 

Miss  Melville  overheard  him. 

"  It  is  odd,"  she  said.  "They  are  neigh 
bors  of  ours  in  Leicestershire.  There  was 
a  branch  of  the  family  which  came  out  to 
this  country  in  the  eighteenth  century.  It 
must  have  belonged  to  them." 

"  Very  likely,"  said  Wharton.  He  stood 
a  moment  in  silence.  He  was  thinking. 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  205 

Then  he  looked  at  her  sharply,  and  she 
dropped  her  eyes.  "  Don't  you  want  to 
come  out  and  see  my  garden?"  he  asked. 
"There  is  not  much  left  of  it  so  late  in 
the  autumn,  but  my  intentions  have  been 
good.  Formal  gardening  is  one  of  my 
fads." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  it,"  she  answered. 

He  opened  the  French  window,  and 
they  stepped  out  on  the  terrace. 

"  It  is  odd,"  he  said,  "  that  we  should 
have  a  tea-service  with  the  coat-of-arms 
of  one  of  your  neighbors  upon  it." 

"Yes,"  she  said;  "  it  almost  makes  me 
believe  in  ghosts,  in  spite  of  what  I  said 
the  other  day."  She  turned  her  eyes 
away,  as  if  she  would  have  recalled  the 
words. 

"  I  was  thinking  of  that,  too,"  he  an 
swered.  "  Sometimes  I  think  I  do  believe 
in  them,"  he  went  on.  "  Such  strange 
things  happen — such  strange  coincidences. 
And  there  must  be  happy  ghosts — the 
ghosts  that  manage  unexpected  meetings 
of  old  friends,  and  make  us  cling  to  our 
faith  in  romance." 


206  GALLOPS    2 

"  I  never  thought  of  that/'  she  said. 
"  I  'm  afraid  I  'm  not  very  romantic.  Life 
upsets  the  story-books." 

"As  a  rule,"  he  answered;  "but  every 
now  and  then  life  arranges  some  strange 
true  story  which  no  story-book  writer 
would  dare  to  use." 

She  shook  her  head.  "  Perhaps,"  she 
said ;  "  but  it  's  best  to  try  to  be  content 
with  facts." 

"  For  a  queen  of  the  hunt,"  said  Whar- 
ton,  "you  are  a  deep  philosopher." 

"  Hunting,"  she  answered,  "  is  some 
thing  besides  sport.  It  fills  one's  lungs 
with  fresh  air  and  keeps  one's  ideas  sensi 
ble.  And  even  if  one  loses  the  hounds, 
one  loses  other  things  as  well." 

Wharton  nodded.  "  But  perhaps,"  he 
said,  "  some  day  you  will  agree  with  me." 
He  slipped  his  hand  into  his  breast  pocket 
and  took  the  letter  in  his  fingers.  "  Sup 
pose — "  he  said;  then  he  hesitated  and 
stopped. 

She  looked  at  him  wonderingly. 

"  Suppose — "  he  repeated. 

He  stopped  the  second  time  as  Elinora 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  207 

appeared  around  the  house,  galloping  upon 
Bub's  broomstick,  followed  by  John  on 
his  own  favorite,  and  by  Bub,  who  brought 
up  the  rear.  All  were  screaming  loudly. 

"I  won!"  shouted  Elinora.  "I  beat 
John!  John  fell  down  at  the  ditch!" 

"  I  should  say  he  did,"  observed  Whar- 
ton.  "He  's  a  sight." 

John's  hands  and  knees  were  covered 
with  clay,  and  his  shoes  were  incased  in  it. 

"  Are  these  the  children  who  were  in 
the  road  that  day  ?  "  asked  Miss  Melville. 

"  Yes,"  said  Wharton.  "  Just  now 
everything  is  hunting  and  steeplechas- 
ing." 

Miss  Melville  smiled.  "  Have  you  been 
having  a  race  ?  "  she  asked  Elinora. 

"  It  's  the  Echo  Hunt  Steeplechase 
Handicap,"  said  Elinora,  proudly. 

"  She  does  n't  know  what  a  handicap 
is,"  whispered  Wharton,  "but  it  sounds 
well." 

Miss  Melville  paid  no  attention  to  him, 
but  spoke  again  to  Elinora. 

"That  's  very  fine,"  she  said.  "What 
are  you  riding?  " 


208  GALLOPS    2 

"  The  Lamb,"  replied  Elinora.  "  It  's 
Bub's;  but  Shamrock  has  real  legs,  and  I 
can't  ride  him  fast." 

"  I  see,"  said  Miss  Melville.  "  The 
Lamb  was  a  great  horse.  He  won  the 
Grand  National  twice." 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Elinora;  "we  know 
that." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Miss  Melville,  gravely. 
"  What  is  your  brother  riding?  It  's  too 
bad  he  came  down." 

"  Whirlwind,"  said  John. 

"  Whirlwind  ?  "  repeated  Miss  Melville. 
She  looked  at  Wharton  curiously. 

"Well?"  he  said.  But  he  knew  what 
was  in  her  mind. 

She  made  no  answer. 

"He  fell  in  the  mud,"  said  John,  "or 
I  'd  have  won.  And  I  had  a  bit  of  a  stake 
on  him,  too." 

Wharton  smiled  at  his  son,  and  the 
words  of  the  man  in  the  phaeton  came 
back  to  him. 

"  So  you  had  a  bit  on  Whirlwind?  "  he 
said.  "  What  is  a  bit,  John  ?  " 

"  Why,"  said  John,  "  you  must  n't  bet 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  209 

more  than  you  can  afford;  but  it  's  all 
right  to  risk  a  bit,  you  know." 

His  manner  and  intonation  were  so  like 
the  Englishman's  that  Wharton  laughed. 

"  That 's  so,"  he  said. 

At  that  moment  the  fox-terrier  looked 
around  the  corner  of  the  house. 

"There  's  Blink,"  said  John.  They 
turned  toward  the  dog,  and  Blink  hastily 
retired,  with  the  three  after  him. 

"  I  don't  think,"  said  Wharton,  "  that 
Blink  appreciates  being  one  of  the 
hounds." 

Miss  Melville  smiled.  "  They  Ve  left 
their  horses,"  she  said.  "  I  once  knew  a 
steeplechase  horse  named  Whirlwind." 

"  Really  ?  "  said  Wharton. 

He  happened  to  look  toward  the  house 
and  saw  Henderson  coming  out  of  the 
French  window. 

"  I  fancy  I  'm  wanted,"  he  said. 

The  man  approached. 

"  I  beg  pardon,  sir,"  said  Henderson. 
He  held  out  a  telegram  which  had  been 
opened. 

"  The  negro  man  who  left  the  packages 

14 


210  GALLOPS    2 

just  now  came  back  with  this.  He  said 
he  found  it  on  the  floor  of  the  cottage, 
sir." 

Wharton  took  the  telegram  and  Hen 
derson  left. 

"  I  don't  see  why  he  should  bring  this 
to  me,"  he  said.  He  drew  out  the  de 
spatch.  It  was  a  cable  from  England. 
There  were  four  words :  "  Whirlwind  fell 
at  water." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Wharton  to 
Miss  Melville.  He  stuffed  the  despatch 
into  his  breeches  pocket.  "  Shall  we  go 
in  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  think  we  had  better,"  she  answered. 

He  opened  the  window,  and  she  passed 
in.  As  he  followed,  his  eyes  fell  on  the 
tea-service. 

"  That 's  the  bit  on  Whirlwind,"  he  said 
to  himself. 

Miss  Melville  was  speaking  to  Mrs. 
Wharton,  who  was  still  at  the  tea-table. 

Wharton  looked  at  the  girl  and  thought. 

Just  then  Wheelwright  came  up.  "  Have 
you  given  her  the  letter?"  he  asked 
Wharton. 


THE  ECHO  HUNT  211 

"  No,"  said  Wharton,  "  not  yet.  I  want 
to  get  hold  of  that  chap,"  he  went  on. 
"  I  think  that  would  be  the  best  way. 
We  must  find  out  where  he  's  gone,  and 
wire  him.  Perhaps,  though,"  he  added 
doubtfully,  "  I  ought  to  give  her  the  letter 
first." 

There  was  a  cracking  of  whips  outside 
in  the  driveway  on  the  other  side  of  the 
house,  and  the  sound  of  the  whippers-in 
shouting  at  straggling  hounds.  Miss  Mel 
ville  turned. 

"  The  hounds  are  starting,"  she  said. 

As  she  spoke,  the  setter  pup,  the  beagle, 
and  Blink  the  fox-terrier  passed  unwill 
ingly  across  the  terrace,  dragged  by  John 
and  Elinora.  Bub  brought  up  the  rear, 
flourishing  a  broken  buggy-whip.  She 
stepped  into  the  window. 

"Good  sport,  Echo  Hunt!"  she  called. 
"  Have  a  good  day !  Have  a  great  many 
good  days!"  she  murmured.  She  turned 
back  into  the  room.  "  I  suppose  we  *d 
better  mount,"  she  added  to  Wharton. 

"Yes,"  said  Wharton.  "I  think  we 
had." 


212  GALLOPS    2 

She  said  "  Good-by  "  to  Mrs.  Wharton. 
The  people  were  streaming  out  to  see  the 
hounds,  and  she  followed. 

Wharton  hung  back  a  few  steps.  He 
took  the  letter  from  his  pocket.  "  What 
do  you  think?'*  he  asked  Wheelwright. 
"  Had  I  better  give  it  to  her,  or  shall  we 
find  him?" 

"  I  met  his  negro  servant  a  few  minutes 
ago,  when  I  went  to  the  stables,"  said 
Wheelwright. 

"  Did  you  find  out  where  he  has  gone?" 
asked  Wharton. 

Wheelwright  dropped  his  voice.  "  He  's 
dead,"  he  said. 

Wharton  was  silent.  He  looked  at 
Wheelwright  with  a  question  in  his  eyes. 

Wheelwright  nodded. 

They  were  at  the  door,  and  Miss  Mel 
ville  was  waiting. 

"Here  is  Lady  Gay,"  she  said.  "I 
ought  to  have  a  good  day  on  that  mare." 

"  She  '11  carry  you  well,"  said  Wharton. 
He  slipped  the  letter  into  his  pocket. 
"Yes,"  he  added,  "we  ought  to  have  a 
good  day." 


THE    REGGIE   LIVINGSTONES1 
COUNTRY  LIFE 


VII 

THE   REGGIE   LIVINGSTONES'   COUNTRY 
LIFE 

MRS.  INNIS  joined  Mrs.  Courtlandt 
Dashwood  on  the  veranda  of  the 
club-house. 

"  I  've  just  had  a  letter  from  dear  Ro 
sina,"  said  Mrs.  Innis.  She  had  the  letter 
in  her  hand,  and  began  to  take  it  out  of 
the  envelop. 

"Who  is  'dear  Rosina'?"  asked  Mrs. 
Dashwood. 

"  Why,  you  remember  Rosina  Russell  ?  " 
said  Mrs.  Innis,  in  a  tone  of  mild  reproof. 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Mrs.  Dashwood;  "she 
was  that  Boston  girl  who  married  Reggie 
Livingstone.  What  Js  the  matter  with 
her?" 

"  She  will  do  so  much  for  our  life  here," 
215 


216  GALLOPS    2 

replied  Mrs.  Innis.  "You  know,  my  dear, 
we  do  get  narrow  and  material,  and,  I  am 
afraid,  rather  stably ;  and  she  has  a  beauti 
ful  mind,  and  fine  sympathies  for  art  and 
poetry.  I  stopped  with  them  in  Rome, 
and  saw  all  the  old  things  they  had  col 
lected.  She  is  very  Preraphaelite." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Dashwood,  "  is  she 
coming  here?" 

"  That  is  just  the  thing  she  writes  about," 
Mrs.  Innis  replied.  She  unfolded  the  letter 
and  began  to  read : 

"  We  are  tired  of  wandering,  even  though  our 
path  has  been  through  the  treasure-houses  of  the 
past.  I  suspect  that  Reginald  is  anxious  to  see  his 
friends  again,  and  I  cannot  but  believe  that  it  is 
best  at  once  to  begin  our  life  in  America.  I  con 
sider  it  very  important  that  we  should  begin  that 
life  under  conditions  of  calm  and  sweetness.  Reg 
inald,  of  course,  has  always  lived  in  New  York, 
but  I  cannot  look  forward  to  the  unwholesome, 
feverish,  yes,  wicked  life  which  goes  on  there.  I 
know  that  it  is  best  for  us  to  find  some  peaceful 
spot  in  some  beautiful  country-side,  with  a  few 
agreeable  people  near  by,  and  there  to  build  a 
house  and  settle  down.  I  write  to  ask  you  about 
Oakdale,  because,  from  what  I  know  of  it,  the 
place  seems  suitable.  Reginald  is  fond  of  out-of- 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    217 

door  sports,  and  I  truly  love  horses,  though  I  do 
not  know  much  about  them." 

Mrs.  Innis  paused  because  Mrs.  Dash- 
wood  had  rushed  down  upon  the  lawn. 
She  noticed  that  Lobster,  her  white  bull- 
terrier,  was  behind  an  ornamental  shrub 
killing  the  club's  Persian  cat.  She  returned 
presently  with  Lobster  on  a  leading-string, 
and  Mrs.  Innis  continued : 

"Moreover,  there  are  several  of  Reginald's  old 
friends  living  there,  though  perhaps  it  would  be  as 
well  if  we  should  lose  sight  of  some  of  them." 

"  I  suppose  she  means  Courty,"  observed 
Mrs.  Dashwood. 

Mrs.  Innis  made  no  comment,  but  read 
on: 

"  And  yet  this  is  perhaps  a  selfish  view  to  take 
of  the  matter.  Reginald's  influence  would  doubt 
less  be  felt,  and  his  taste  for  the  higher  things 
would  be  communicated  to  the  companions  of  his 
idle  bachelor  days — days  which  I  know  he  deeply 
regrets." 

"  His  nose  is  badly  scratched,"  observed 
Mrs.  Dashwood,  who  had  been  examining 


2i8  GALLOPS    2 

Lobster's  wounds.  "The  nasty  cat!  I 
ought  to  take  him  home  to  put  something 
on  it.'1 

"  But  don't  you  think  they  would  be  a 
great  addition?"  said  Mrs.  Innis. 

"  I  dare  say,"  said  Mrs.  Dashwood.  "  I 
wonder  if  Reggie  is  much  changed.  You 
poor  dear!"  she  remarked  to  Lobster,  "  I 
wish  I  had  let  you  finish  it."  She  rose  as 
she  spoke,  and  ordered  her  horses. 

Mrs.  Innis  went  into  the  women's  room 
and  wrote  twelve  pages  to  Mrs.  Reginald 
Livingstone  in  Florence. 

THE  following  autumn,  somewhat  as  a 
consequence  of  this  correspondence,  the 
Reggie  Livingstones  were  installed  in  Mr. 
Carteret  Carteret's  house,  one  mile  from 
the  club.  He  was  intending  to  hunt  in 
England  that  season,  and  the  Livingstones 
were  glad  to  take  his  house  because  they 
were  still  warring  with  the  architect  about 
plans.  In  addition  to  a  building-site  near 
the  club,  they  had  purchased  the  small 
farm  that  lay  behind.  Mrs.  Livingstone 
considered  the  tilling  of  the  soil  and  the 


THE   LIVINGSTONES*   COUNTRY   LIFE     219 

companionship,  as  she  expressed  it,  of 
sweet-breathing  Alderney  cows  to  be  a 
source  of  inspiration  and  beautiful  thoughts. 
In  fact,  during  the  voyage  across  the 
Atlantic,  when  she  was  bored  with  the 
sea,  and  while  stopping  at  a  New  York 
hotel,  when  she  was  bored  by  the  town 
bustle,  country  life  had  become  a  passion. 
She  could  hardly  wait  to  enter  upon  it, 
and  she  passed  much  of  her  time  drawing 
pencil  sketches  of  walled  gardens  and  hen 
houses  with  Romanesque  pilasters. 

One  evening,  a  fortnight  after  the  Liv 
ingstones  installation  in  the  country,  and 
after  the  community  had  reassembled  for 
the  October  hunting,  Mrs.  Livingstone 
was  in  her  drawing-room,  surrounded  by 
the  guests  who  were  sitting  through  the 
after-dinner  period  of  a  woman's  dinner 
party.  Livingstone's  men  friends  were 
giving  him  a  dinner  of  welcome  at  the 
club,  and  it  had  occurred  to  Mrs.  Living 
stone  to  ask  their  wives  and  a  few  others 
to  dine  with  her. 

"  I  'm  so  glad  you  like  us,"  Mrs.  Innis 
was  saying,  "  because,  you  know,  in  a  cer- 


220  GALLOPS    2 

tain  sense  I  feel  responsible  for  bringing 
you  here." 

"You  are  all  delightful,  dear!"  replied 
Mrs.  Livingstone,  soulfully,  "  and  the 
country  is  beautiful  beyond  words.  I 
am  also  very  much  pleased  with  this  little 
place  of  Mr.  Carteret's.  The  dear  flowers 
are  simply  charming."  She  turned  to  Mrs. 
Dashwood,  who  appeared  either  to  be  bored 
or  very  sleepy.  "Don't  you  think  so?  " 

"  I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Dashwood,  "  that 
a  garden  is  a  bore.  When  the  sun  or  the 
frost  is  n't  killing  everything,  the  dogs  are, 
or  somebody's  horses  get  into  it.  It  is 
much  better  to  get  your  flowers  from  town 
by  express  four  times  a  week." 

Mrs.  Livingstone's  countenance  showed 
that  she  dissented  from  this  view.  How 
ever,  she  had  a  theory  about  mastering 
persons  by  discovering  their  nobler  inter 
ests,  so  that  she  continued  the  discussion. 

"  If  you  don't  care  about  watching  the 
growth  and  development  of  flowers,"  she 
said,  "  perhaps  you  would  be  interested  in 
vegetables.  The  vegetable-garden  here  is 
remarkable." 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE     221 

"  It  is  the  same  with  vegetables  as  with 
flowers,"  said  Mrs.  Dashwood.  "  They 
raise  them  better  and  cheaper  in  New 
Jersey." 

"  But,"  protested  Mrs.  Livingstone, 
"  think  of  the  sentiment  and  poetry  which 
attach  to  the  fruits  of  one's  own  garden. 
Was  it  not  Horace  who  wrote  an  ode  to 
the  white  turnips  raised  by  Lucullus?" 

"  How  delightful ! "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Innis. 

"  I  do  not  care  for  turnips,"  said  Mrs. 
Dashwood.  "  I  believe,  however,  that 
they  are  very  wholesome  for  sheep." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  turned  from  Mrs. 
Dashwood  to  Mrs.  Innis.  "You  and  I 
will  garden  together,  dear." 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Innis. 

At  this  not  only  Mrs.  Dashwood  but 
others  smiled.  Mrs.  Innis  was  remark 
able  for  never  doing  any  of  those  things, 
except  in  imagination. 

There  was  a  pause  in  the  conversa 
tion. 

"Well,"  observed  Mrs.  Dashwood, 
loudly,  "  are  n't  we  going  to  play 


222  GALLOPS    2 

bridge  ?  "  She  had  been  waiting  half  an 
hour  for  the  tables  to  be  brought  in. 

Mrs.  Livingstone  made  no  reply.  She 
seemed  not  to  have  heard,  though  that 
was  scarcely  possible.  She  smiled  faintly 
with  what  she  considered  her  "  sweet  ex 
pression." 

"  Yes/'  she  said  dreamily  to  Mrs.  Innis, 
"  you  and  I  will  have  a  garden  with  jon 
quils  and  lilies  and  fritillaria  and  rosemary 
and  all  the  delightful  old  flowers—" 

"What  is  fritillaria?"  Mrs.  Varick  in 
quired. 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  ? "  said  Mrs. 
Livingstone.  "  It  is  that  lovely — "  she 
hesitated,  as  if  seeking  the  descriptive 
words. 

"Are  n't  we  going  to  play  bridge?" 
asked  Mrs.  Dashwood. 

Mrs.  Livingstone  abandoned  her  search 
after  the  descriptive  words. 

"  I  am  sorry,  Mrs.  Dashwood,"  she  said 
coldly,  "but  I  believe  that  there  are  no 
cards  in  the  house.  Neither  Mr.  Living 
stone  nor  myself  ever  plays.  We  have 
ideals  which  forbid  it.  While  not  assuming 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    223 

to  criticize  others,  I  must  say  that  I  dis 
approve  of  playing  any  game  for  stakes, 
however  small." 

Mrs.  Innis's  skill  at  bridge  was  note 
worthy,  and  her  winnings  were  almost 
scandalous,  but  her  sympathies  were  cath 
olic  and  quick. 

"  I  admire  you  very  much  for  saying 
that,"  she  said.  "  I  am  sure  we  play  too 
much,  and  need  just  such  an  influence  as 
yours." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Dashwood,  "  I 
believe  in  people  living  up  to  their  prin 
ciples,  if  they  have  any." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  did  not  exactly  under 
stand  what  Mrs.  Dashwood  meant.  "  I 
am  glad  you  agree  with  me,"  she  said. 
She  considered  that  a  safe  remark. 

Mrs.  Dashwood  began  to  play  with  the 
fox-terrier,  and  made  no  reply. 

"  We  were  talking  about  gardening  and 
country  life,"  Mrs.  Livingstone  continued, 
addressing  the  company  through  Mrs. 
Innis.  "  Don't  you  think  that  a  beautiful 
environment  such  as  we  have  here  must 
make  our  lives  finer  and  more  beautiful?  " 


224  GALLOPS    2 

"  It  must,  of  course,"  said  Mrs.  Innis. 
"And  you  remember  you  promised  to  have 
a  class  and  to  let  us  come  and  be  taught 
about  books  and  art." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  looked  down  meekly. 

"  I  should  be  a  very  poor  teacher,"  she 
said,  "  I  know  so  little  ;  but  we  could  study 
together." 

"  You  know  a  great  deal,"  said  Mrs. 
Innis.  "  When  shall  we  begin?  " 

Mrs.  Livingstone  thought  for  a  moment. 
"  Wednesdays  at  ten  would  suit  me  best,  if 
it  is  agreeable  to  you." 

There  was  no  dissent. 

"  Wednesday  suits  every  one,"  said  Mrs. 
Innis.  "  We  will  begin  day  after  to-mor 
row.  As  I  've  said  before,  it  will  make 
our  life  so  much  more  profitable  and 
amusing." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  looked  doubtful  at  the 
last  word.  She  had  something  in  mind  to 
say,  however,  and  she  let  Mrs.  Innis's 
rather  extraordinary  point  of  view  pass. 

"  There  is  just  one  thing  regarding  this 
place,"  she  began,  "  about  which  I  am  in 
doubt ;  that  is  the  hunting.  It  is  certainly 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    225 

a  question  whether  such  strong  excitement 
is  a  good  thing,  to  say  nothing  of  the  risks 
which  accompany  it.  Ought  a  married 
man  to  assume  those  risks  merely  in  the 
course  of  his  pleasure,  and  ought  a  wife — 
to  be  more  explicit,  ought  I  to  allow  Mr. 
Livingstone  to  take  them?" 

There  was  no  answer  to  this  question, 
which  was  addressed  generally. 

Mrs.  Livingstone  turned  to  Mrs.  Innis. 

"  Would  you  let  him  hunt  if  he  were 
yours?  " 

"That  is  a  very  hard  question,"  replied 
Mrs.  Innis.  "  In  the  first  place,  you  see, 
I  can't  imagine  him  being  mine."  She 
blushed,  and  several  of  her  friends  smiled ; 
but  Mrs.  Livingstone  did  not  notice  either 
the  blush  or  the  smiles.  "  In  the  second 
place,"  Mrs.  Innis  continued,  "  when  poor 
dear  Mr.  Innis  was  alive,  I  tried  never  to 
allow  myself  a  wish  of  my  own."  She 
sighed,  and  the  friends  who  had  smiled 
before  smiled  again. 

"  That  was  unselfish  of  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Livingstone,  "  but  quite  wrong,  I  am  sure, 
if  your  wishes  were  for  his  good." 

15 


226  GALLOPS    2 

She  turned  to  Mrs.  Dashwood. 

"What  would  you  do,"  she  asked, 
"about  Reggie's  hunting?" 

"  I  should  n't  do  anything, ".replied  Mrs. 
Dashwood,  still  playing  with  the  terrier. 
"  It  would  n't  do  any  good.  I  've  found 
out  that  when  Courtlandt  wishes  to  hunt 
or  drink  or  gamble,  he  does  it  without  con 
sulting  me." 

"  Mr.  Livingstone,"  said  his  wife,  coldly, 
"  neither  drinks  nor  gambles,  so  that  it  is 
unnecessary  to  consider  those  subjects.  As 
to  hunting,  I  believe  that  he  would  give  it 
up  if  I  asked  it" 

"  He  might,"  said  Mrs.  Dashwood,  "  if 
he  was  n't  keen  about  it,  or  if  you  cut 
down  his  allowance." 

"  I  think,"  replied  Mrs.  Livingstone, 
with  reproof  in  her  tone,  "that  you  are 
seriously  in  error.  A  woman  should,  as 
they  say,  manage  her  husband  only  by 
appealing  to  his  strength  and  manliness, 
by  sharing  and  sympathizing  with  his 
interests." 

"  You  are  quite  right,  my  dear,"  said 
Mrs.  Innis.  "Don't  let  her  make  you 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    227 

worldly  or  lose  your  faith  in  men.  After 
all,"  she  added,  with  a  shrug  of  her  shoul 
ders,  "there  is  no  one  else  to  marry  us,  is 
there?" 

"  I  am  sure  that  I  am  right/'  said  Mrs. 
Livingstone.  "  Community  of  interest  is 
what  makes  marriage  happy.  That  is  why 
we  have  come  to  the  country.  We  both 
are  wrapped  up  in  country  life.  It  is  a 
very  wholesome  taste  to  have  in  common. 
Town  life  is  full  of  temptations,  but  here 
in  the  country  it  is  quite  different." 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Dashwood,  "  different 
and  worse." 

"  I  am  afraid,  my  dear  Mrs.  Dashwood," 
said  Mrs.  Livingstone,  "  that  you  are  some 
thing  of  a  pessimist." 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Dashwood ;  "only  I  Ve 
lived  here  ten  years.  But  I  would  n't  live 
anywhere  else,"  she  added.  "  I  like  to 
ride  to  hounds." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  looked  puzzled.  She 
started  to  speak,  but  Mrs.  Dashwood  in 
terrupted  by  asking  if  she  might  have  her 
horses  ordered. 

"But  you  are  not  going  alone?"  she 


228  GALLOPS    2 

said.  "  Is  n't  Mr.  Dashwood  coming  for 
you?" 

"I  hope  not,"  said  Mrs.  Dashwood; 
"not  at  this  time  of  night." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  recoiled  in  shocked 
amazement. 

"  You  must  n't  pay  any  attention  to 
Effie,"  said  Mrs.  Innis,  soothingly.  "  It  is 
her  pose  to  be  cynical.  The  real  reason 
why  she  is  going  home  without  Mr.  Dash- 
wood  is  that  she  has  me  on  her  hands,  and 
the  brougham  holds  only  two." 

"But  are  you  all  going?"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Livingstone,  as  her  guests  rose. 
"  Are  n't  any  of  you  going  to  wait  till  the 
dinner  at  the  club  is  over?  " 

"My  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Varick,  "they 
won't  be  leaving  the  club  for  hours.  It  is 
much  more  sensible  for  us  to  go  to  bed 
than  to  sit  up  and  wait.  You  had  better 
do  the  same  thing." 

As  the  last  of  her  guests  drove  away, 
Mrs.  Livingstone  slipped  out  and  stood 
on  the  steps  in  the  porte-cochere.  The 
crunching  of  the  wheels  on  the  gravel 
ceased.  She  waited  for  a  time,  listening 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    229 

for  an  approaching  vehicle,  but  none  came. 
She  was  very  tired,  and  presently  she  went 
in  and  went  to  bed.  But  she  did  not  go 
to  sleep  for  a  long  time.  New  and  dis 
turbing  doubts  worried  her. 

At  eleven  o'clock  the  next  morning  Mr. 
Livingstone  had  shown  no  signs  of  getting 
up.  His  door  was  locked,  and  when  his 
man  knocked  at  nine,  the  only  response 
was  a  mumbled  something  which  he  did 
not  understand,  but  interpreted  as  a  re 
quest  to  be  left  undisturbed.  Mrs.  Living 
stone  was  growing  uneasy.  Her  husband 
always  rose  at  nine,  and  not  unnaturally 
she  feared  that  he  was  ill.  She  was  won 
dering  whether  she  ought  to  send  for  the 
doctor,  when  the  footman  appeared  and 
informed  her  that  some  one  was  at  the 
door  with  a  horse  and  wished  to  speak  to 
Mr.  Livingstone. 

She  went  to  the  door,  and  found  a  groom 
in  the  porte-cochere  with  a  horse. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Please,  madam,"  said  the  groom,  "  Mr. 
Galloway  told  me  to  deliver  this  horse  to 
Mr.  Livingstone  and  to  give  him  this  note." 


230  GALLOPS    2 

"  You  may  give  me  the  note,"  she  said, 
"  and  you  had  better  take  the  horse  to  the 
stable." 

She  glanced  at  the  handwriting,  which 
was  unfamiliar,  and  went  into  the  house 
and  listened.  There  were  no  sounds  of 
Mr.  Livingstone's  awakening. 

"  It  may  be  something  important,"  she 
said  half  aloud.  "  I  suppose  I  ought  to 
open  it."  She  hesitated  for  a  moment, 
then  she  tore  open  the  envelop. 

"  DEAR  REGGIE  [she  read] :  Here  is  old  Blue 
Chip,  who  stands  you  for  one  stack  of  the  same, 
as  per  last  evening's  sale.  I  hope  you  feel  better 
than  I  do.  Galloway." 

She  looked  perplexed.  She  began  to 
read  the  note  a  second  time,  when  she 
heard  a  bell  ring  and  immediately  after 
ward  the  sound  of  the  unlocking  of  a 
door.  It  was  a  wooden  house,  and  people 
moving  and  speaking  in  the  upper  story 
could  be  heard  from  below.  Presently 
she  heard  a  servant  knock  and  her  husband 
order  a  bottle  of  mineral  water. 

"  Do  you  wish  your  breakfast  in  your 
room,  sir  ?  "  asked  the  man. 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    231 

"  I  don't  wish  any  breakfast,"  replied 
Mr.  Livingstone.  "  Is  there  any  grape 
fruit  in  the  house?" 

"  I  '11  see,  sir,"  said  the  man. 

"  If  there  is  none,"  said  Mr.  Livingstone, 
"  bring  some  lemons  with  the  water,  and 
bring  a  quart  bottle." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  listened  with  growing 
anxiety.  Her  husband  rarely  ate  grape 
fruit,  and  invariably  did  eat  a  hearty 
breakfast  Moreover,  his  voice  was  hoarse. 
"Reggie,"  she  called  up,  "are  you  ill?" 

"  No,"  replied  Mr.  Livingstone. 

"  You  are  very  hoarse,"  she  commented. 
"  You  must  have  caught  cold  coming 
home." 

"  I  did,"  said  Mr.  Livingstone. 

"You  know,  I  told  you  to  take  a 
muffler." 

There  was  no  answer. 

"  Don't  you  feel  well  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  I  feel  like  a  little  skylark,"  he  replied 
hoarsely. 

"  I  'm  so  glad,"  she  said  sympathetically. 
"  Reggie,"  she  continued,  mounting  the 
stairs,  "  a  horse  came  for  you  a  little  while 


232  GALLOPS    2 

ago — and  a  note.  You  were  asleep,  and 
it  looked  like  something  important,  so  I 
opened  it." 

"  A  horse?  "  he  said,  with  a  note  of  sur 
prise  in  his  voice.  "  Let  's  see  the  note." 

She  handed  him  the  envelop,  and  he 
took  out  the  sheet  of  paper  and  read  it. 

"  This  is  some  idiot  joke  of  Galloway's," 
he  observed. 

"What  does  he  mean?"  asked  Mrs. 
Livingstone. 

"  Blue  Chip  is  the  name  of  a  horse,"  he 
replied. 

"  And  I  suppose  the  '  one  stack '  refers 
to  the  haystack  which  it  will  eat  up,"  she 
suggested. 

"  You  are  a  wonderful  woman ! "  replied 
Mr.  Livingstone.  He  patted  her  shoulder. 
"  Run  away,  and  let  me  get  my  bath." 

"  But  is  this  the  horse  you  were  going 
to  get  for  me  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Of  course,"  he  answered,  and  disap 
peared  into  his  bedroom. 

Mrs.  Livingstone  went  down-stairs  with 
the  intention  of  going  to  the  stables  to 
inspect  her  new  horse.  She  put  on  a  hat 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    233 

and  stepped  through  the  door,  when  she 
saw  two  men  coming  up  the  drive,  on& 
pulling  and  the  other  pushing  what  is 
known  as  a  breaking-cart.  She  waited  till 
they  approached,  for  she  noticed  that  one 
of  the  shafts  was  broken  and  that  the  brass 
dash-rail  was  bent  out  of  shape.  More 
over,  several  spokes  were  missing  from 
one  of  the  wheels. 

"Has  there  been  an  accident?"  she 
asked  anxiously.  She  glanced  fearfully 
out  toward  the  road,  expecting  to  see  a 
motionless  form  borne  in. 

"  No,  ma'am,"  answered  the  man  in  the 
shafts;  "that  is,  not  recent."  He  took  a 
note  from  his  pocket.  "This  is  for  Mr. 
Livingstone,"  he  said. 

"  You  may  give  it  to  me,"  she  replied. 
The  man  handed  her  the  note,  and  she 
turned  to  enter  the  house. 

"  Shall  we  take  it  to  the  stable  ?  "  the 
man  called  after  her. 

"  Take  what  to  the  stable  ? "  she  said, 
stopping. 

"Why,  the  cart,  ma'am,"  said  the 
man. 


234  GALLOPS    2 

"  Is  that  cart  for  Mr.  Livingstone  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  answered  the  man. 

"  Very  well,"  she  said.  "  Take  it  to  the 
stable." 

She  went  in  and  mounted  the  stairs. 

"  Reginald,"  she  called,  "  here  is  another 
note  for  you,  and  there  is  a  broken  cart 
outside  that  two  men  have  just  taken  to 
the  stable." 

One  half  of  Mr.  Livingstone's  face  was 
still  unshaven  and  lathered,  but  he  came 
to  the  door  with  an  anxious  look,  and  took 
the  note. 

"  Good  heavens,  Rosina ! "  he  exclaimed, 
"  can't  you  keep  these  things  till  I  get 
dressed?  I  have  a  headache,  and  very 
likely  a  temperature." 

"You  said  you  felt  like  a  lark,"  observed 
Mrs.  Livingstone. 

"  Well,  don't  argue  about  it,"  he  replied. 
He  tore  open  the  envelop,  and  read  the 
contents  aloud.  It  said : 

"Here  is  the  breaking,  or  broken,  cart  that 
went  for  the  odd  reds.  I  forgot  to  send  it  over 
with  Blue  Chip.  By  the  way,  this  is  the  best  way 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    235 

to  drive  the  old  horse — about  half  an  hour  ahead 
of  the  trap.     It  saves  repairs. 

"  Galloway." 

"  Is  this  another  of  Mr.  Galloway's 
jokes?"  asked  Mrs.  Livingstone. 

"  Hang  Galloway ! "  said  Mr.  Living 
stone.  "  He  ought  to  be  more  considerate 
so  early  in  the  morning." 

"  Please  don't  swear,"  said  Mrs.  Living 
stone.  "  It  distresses  me ;  and,  besides,  it 
is  n't  early  in  the  morning." 

"  Angel,"  said  Mr.  Livingstone,  desper 
ately,  "  please  let  me  shave."  And  he 
withdrew. 

"  But  I  don't  understand  about  the  '  odd 
reds,' "  she  called  after  him,  "  unless  it 
means  the  odd  spokes  that  were  left  in  the 
wheels.  They  were  red." 

"  That  's  it,"  he  called  back,  and  shut 
the  door  of  his  dressing-room. 

Mrs.  Livingstone  was  curious  to  inspect 
her  new  horse.  Mr.  Galloway's  second 
note  was  not  reassuring,  and  when  she 
had  said  that  she  loved  horses  she  meant 
safe,  trustworthy  horses  with  kind  eyes 
and  indolent  temperaments.  If  it  were 


236  GALLOPS    2 

safest  to  put  Blue  Chip  half  an  hour  ahead 
of  the  trap,  she  wished  to  make  no  ex 
periments  at  closer  range.  She  decided  to 
consult  Barnes,  the  coachman. 

As  she  was  leaving  the  houseshe  chanced 
to  look  toward  the  gateway,  and  a  spec 
tacle  met  her  eyes  which  put  Blue  Chip 
out  of  her  mind.  It  was  a  procession 
coming  up  the  driveway  toward  the  front 
door.  First  there  was  a  man  driving  a 
wheelless  board  platform,  known  in  the 
country  as  a  stone-boat.  There  was  an 
old  plow  on  the  stone-boat;  also  a  small 
black  pig,  which  was  tied  to  the  plow. 
Next  there  was  a  stable-boy  with  a  calf; 
after  him  a  groom  with  a  hugely  fat  pie 
bald  pony.  The  groom  also  led  a  goat. 
Behind  him  came  another  groom  riding  a 
horse  that  limped  in  various  legs.  All  four 
were  bandaged,  so  that  the  exact  nature 
of  the  infirmity  was  not  obvious.  Next 
came  a  farm-wagon  loaded  with  what 
might  be  called  an  assorted  cargo.  Her 
eye  caught  two  sheep,  a  harrow,  a  coop 
of  chickens,  and  some  distended  grain- 
sacks. 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    237 

As  the  head  of  the  line  approached,  Mrs. 
Livingstone  advanced  to  meet  it.  "  What 
is  all  this?  "  she  inquired  of  the  farm-hand 
on  the  stone-boat. 

"  I  was  told  to  leave  some  things  for 
Mr.  Livingstone,  ma'am,"  replied  the  man. 
"  There  's  a  plow,  and  a  shote,  and  the 
stone-boat."  He  handed  her  a  note. 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  and  all  the  rest  of 
you  ?  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

The  old  farmer  on  the  seat  of  the  box- 
wagon  replied : 

"  I  got  a  load  of  stuff  from  Mr.  Colfax's 
place  fer  Mr.  Livingstone,  and  I  guess  the 
rest  of  these  fellers  has  stuff  fer  him,  too. 
Besides  them  sheep  and  the  harrer,"  he 
continued,  casting  his  eye  over  the  wagon, 
"  I  got  a  coop  of  games,  a  coyote  pup, 
four  beagle-dogs,  one  bag  of  clover-seed, 
two  bushels  of  early  rose  seed-potatoes, 
and  one  bag  of  prepared  trout  food.  It  's 
all  in  this  here  invitory."  He  handed 
down  a  note  to  the  groom  on  the  lame 
horse,  and  he  passed  it  along  to  the  groom 
with  the  pony  and  the  goat,  and  eventually 
it  reached  Mrs.  Livingstone,  together  with 


238  GALLOPS    2 

other  notes  that  came  from  the  various 
other  persons  in  the  line. 

"Where  shall  I  leave  your  stuff,  miss?" 
inquired  the  farmer. 

Mrs.  Livingstone  looked  up  blankly  from 
the  collection  of  notes  in  her  hand. 

"  Please  wait,"  she  said,  "  till  I  speak 
with  Mr.  Livingstone."  She  went  indoors 
and  up-stairs  to  her  husband's  room. 
There  was  no  answer  to  her  knock,  and 
she  went  in.  Then  she  heard  a  splashing 
in  his  bath-room.  "  Reginald ! "  she  called. 

The  splashing  ceased. 

"  Reginald ! "  she  called  again. 

"  I  'm  in  the  tub!"  came  the  reply. 

"  But  there  is  a  procession  waiting  out 
side,  and  here  are  a  lot  more  notes." 

"A  lot  more  what?"  said  the  voice  in 
the  bath-room. 

"  Notes,"  she  repeated.  "  Letters  from 
people  who  have  sent  you  things." 

"  Oh,  bother ! "  said  the  voice.  Presently 
the  door  was  unlocked  and  a  wet  arm  ex 
tended. 

"  Give  me  the  notes,"  said  Mr.  Living 
stone.  Then  the  door  closed  again.  "  I 


THE   LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY   LIFE      239 

shall  be  down  in  a  few  minutes/'  he  added. 
"  Tell  them  to  wait." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  told  the  men  to  wait, 
and  then  she  went  into  the  library  and 
sat  down.  She  was  troubled — she  could 
not  explain  why.  There  was  something 
irregular  about  the  way  the  day  had  begun. 
She  thought  it  best  to  calm  her  mind,  and 
she  took  from  the  table  a  book  of  verses 
by  a  Bulgarian  poetess  and  began  to  read. 
There  was  little  which  seemed  to  mean 
anything  in  the  verses,  but  they  sounded 
well,  and  she  decided  to  read  them  to  the 
class  next  day.  They  were  much  out  of 
the  common,  and  that  is  a  great  deal  with 
poetry,  even  if  it  means  nothing.  She  was 
reading  in  a  low  tone  to  herself: 

" '  My  heart,  the  fragrance  of  the  rose, 

The  lark's  song,  and   the   passion  of  yester 
day—' 

"  How  beautiful ! "  she  murmured,  "  how 
true ! "  She  closed  the  book  with  her  finger 
at  the  page,  and  gazed  tenderly  across  at 
a  Braun  photograph  on  the  opposite  wall 
depicting  a  Botticelli  young  lady  with  a 


240  GALLOPS    2 

scrawny  neck.  As  her  eyes  returned  to  the 
book,  her  range  of  vision  embraced  the  bow- 
window  which  looked  out  upon  the  tennis 
lawn  and  the  garden.  She  gave  a  little 
scream  and  clasped  the  book  to  her  bosom. 
She  saw  two  horses  side  by  side  in  the  air 
entering  the  garden  over  the  wall  and  high 
box  hedge  and  about  to  land  on  the  violet- 
frames.  The  sound  of  breaking  glass 
which  instantly  followed  told  her  that  they 
had  landed.  The  riders,  whom  she  recog 
nized  as  Messrs.  Dashwood  and  Colfax, 
immediately  dismounted  and  began  ex 
amining  their  horses'  legs.  The  examina 
tion  seemed  satisfactory,  for  they  presently 
remounted,  without  casting  a  glance  at 
the  frames.  When  they  galloped  on  to  the 
tennis  lawn,  Mrs.  Livingstone  threw  the 
Bulgarian  poetess  on  the  table  and  dashed 
to  the  window.  She  could  see  the  deep 
hoof-prints  in  the  tender  turf.  The  French 
windows  were  partly  open,  and  she  was 
about  to  request  them  to  keep  off  the 
tennis  lawn  when  she  heard  her  husband 
calling  from  the  window  above. 
"Hello,  you  chaps!"  he  shouted. 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    241 

His  hail  was  answered  by  Mr.  Dash- 
wood: 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  putting  glass 
on  the  landing  side  of  a  hedge  ?  " 

Mrs.  Livingstone  gasped. 

"I  did  n't  put  it  there,"  replied  Mr. 
Livingstone,  "  but  I  wish  I  had.  To 
morrow  I  shall  fix  it  up  with  barbed 
wire." 

"  You  will  be  put  out  of  the  hunt  if  you 
do,"  said  Mr.  Dashwood. 

"  It  was  rather  a  good  jump,  don't  you 
think  ?  "  observed  Willie  Colfax.  "  We  got 
a  tenner  apiece  out  of  Carty.  He  did  n't 
think  we  'd  have  it." 

"Where  is  Carty?"  asked  Mr.  Living 
stone. 

"  He  's  coming  around  by  the  gate," 
said  Mr.  Colfax.  "  He  's  on  a  horse  that 's 
just  been  taken  up." 

"  He  '11  be  annoyed  about  the  way  you've 
torn  up  the  garden  and  the  lawn." 

"No,  he  won't,"  said  Mr.  Dashwood. 
"  He  said  that  you  were  a  responsible 
tenant.  He  did  n't  care." 

Mrs.  Livingstone,  listening  in  the  library, 

16 


242  GALLOPS    2 

dropped  into  a  chair.  It  was  difficult  for 
her  to  believe  her  ears. 

"  How  do  you  feel  this  morning?"  in 
quired  Mr.  Colfax. 

"  Ripping,"  replied  Mr.  Livingstone. 

Mr.  Dashwood  looked  up  and  smiled 
incredulously.  "  You  were  nosing  in  rather 
big  last  night,"  he  observed.  "  I  felt  anx 
ious  about  you." 

11  That  was  awfully  good  of  you,"  said 
Mr.  Livingstone.  "How  are  you  to 
day?" 

Mr.  Dashwood  gazed  across  the  land 
scape,  and  absently  lifted  his  hat  and  bared 
his  head  to  the  breeze. 

"  Have  our  things  come  ?  "  he  asked 
after  a  pause. 

"  They  are  on  the  other  side  of  the 
house,"  said  Mr.  Livingstone.  "  I  think  it 
was  low  of  you  to  sell  me  all  those  things, 
and  lower  yet  to  deliver  them." 

"  They  were  no  good  to  us,"  said  Mr. 
Colfax. 

"  Go  around  and  send  your  horses  to 
the  stable,"  said  Mr.  Livingstone.  "  I  'm 
coming  down." 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    243 

Mrs.  Livingstone  got  up  from  her  chair 
in  the  library  and  left  the  room.  Feelings 
of  surprise  and  indignation  were  mastering 
her. 

As  Mr.  Livingstone  came  down-stairs, 
he  met  his  wife  in  the  hallway.  "  What  is 
the  matter?  "  he  asked. 

"  Nothing,"  she  replied  in  a  tone  that 
meant  quite  the  reverse. 

"  Are  n't  you  going  to  look  at  our  new 
possessions?"  he  suggested. 

"  I  don't  think  I  care  for  those  men," 
said  Mrs.  Livingstone. 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  Mr.  Livingstone, 
cheerfully.  "  What  does  it  matter  about 
a  little  broken  glass  ?  " 

"  It  is  n't  the  broken  glass,"  said  Mrs. 
Livingstone ;  "  and  please  don't  say  '  Non 
sense.'  It  distresses  me." 

"Come  along!"  said  her  husband,  and 
he  led  the  way  out  into  the  porte-cochere. 
As  she  appeared  behind  him,  Mr.  Dash- 
wood  and  Mr.  Colfax  both  bowed  with 
much  manner  and  said,  "  Good  morning, 
Mrs.  Livingstone." 

Mr.  Carteret,  who  rode  up  at  that  mo- 


244  GALLOPS    2 

ment,  also  bowed  and  said,  "  Good  morn 
ing." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  returned  their  salutes 
with  one  dignified  inclination  of  her  head. 

"  It  is  a  very  lovely  morning,"  continued 
Mr.  Dashwood.  "  Beautiful  color  on  the 
hills,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Livingstone ;  "  it  is 
almost  a  profanation  to  do  anything  on 
such  a  morning  except  to  admire  the  view, 
is  it  not?" 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  replied  Mr.  Dash- 
wood.  "  Mrs.  Dashwood  enjoyed  your 
party  very  much  last  evening." 

"  I  am  glad  that  Mrs.  Dashwood  en 
joyed  herself,"  said  Mrs.  Livingstone. 

There  was  an  uncomfortable  pause, 
which  was  broken  by  Mr.  Colfax.  "  There 
is  Effie  now,  with  Mrs.  Innis,"  he  said. 
He  waved  his  hat,  and  Mrs.  Dashwood, 
who  was  driving  along  the  road  in  a  cart, 
turned  into  the  Livingstones'  driveway. 
As  she  saw  the  array  of  things  marshaled 
before  the  front  door  and  the  company 
assembled  there,  an  uncharitable  gleam 
lighted  her  very  handsome  eyes. 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    245 

"  Good  morning,"  said  Mrs.  Dashwood 
as  she  drove  up.  There  was  a  cordiality 
in  her  tone  which  jarred  on  Mrs.  Living 
stone's  feminine  intuitions. 

"  Good  morning,  dear/'  said  Mrs.  Innis. 
"  We  saw  Willie  wave  to  us,  and  we  drove 
in  to  say  what  a  good  time  we  had  last 
evening." 

"Won't  you  send  your  cart  to  the 
stable?"  said  Mrs.  Livingstone. 

"Thank  you,  no;  we  can  stop  only  a 
minute,"  said  Mrs.  Dashwood. 

"My  dear!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Innis, 
"what  does  all  this  mean  ?  "  She  motioned 
toward  the  procession,  which  she  seemed 
to  have  just  noticed.  "  Have  you  been 
to  an  auction  ?  " 

"  I  really  don't  know  what  it  does  mean," 
said  Mrs.  Livingstone,  stiffly.  "  I  was 
about  to  inquire." 

Mr.  Dashwood  and  Mr.  Colfax  grinned, 
and  Mr.  Livingstone  looked  dignified  and 
uncomfortable.  Mr.  Carteret  preserved 
his  usual  uninquisitive  calm. 

"What  have  you  been  doing?"  said  Mrs. 
Dashwood  to  her  husband. 


246  GALLOPS    2 

"  Nothing,"  said  Mr.  Dashwood. 

"  We  jumped  the  garden  hedge,"  said 
Mr.  Colfax.  "  It  was  rather  profitable." 
He  looked  at  Mr.  Carteret. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Livingstone,  "  and 
landed  in  Mrs.  Livingstone's  violet- 
frames." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  cast  a  side  glance  at 
Mrs.  Dashwood  and  tried  to  stop  her 
husband. 

"  It  was  of  no  consequence,"  she  said. 

"  Courtlandt,  you  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  yourself,"  said  Mrs.  Dashwood.  "  But 
I  told  you  how  it  would  be  with  a  garden," 
she  continued  to  Mrs.  Livingstone.  "  It 
is  much  better  to  get  your  flowers  from 
town." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  made  no  reply. 

"  But  I  want  to  know  about  these 
things,"  said  Mrs.  Innis,  who  was  study 
ing  the  procession. 

"  These  are  some  treasures  which  Reg 
gie  acquired  last  evening,"  replied  Mr. 
Colfax.  "  You  know,  Reggie  is  going  in 
for  country  life.  Rather  a  fine  lot,  are  n't 
they?" 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY   LIFE      247 

"  No,"  said  Mrs.  Innis;  "  it  looks  to  me 
like  trash." 

"How  can  you  say  such  things?"  said 
Mr.  Colfax.  "  Look  at  that  horse ! " 

"  He  's  lame  in  only  two  legs,"  observed 
Mr.  Carteret. 

"Well,  that  was  Courty's  horse,"  said 
Mr.  Colfax. 

"Was  that  pony  yours?"  asked  Mrs. 
Innis. 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Colfax;  "that  was 
Varick's.  I  must  say,  it  was  hardly  right 
to  unload  that  on  Reggie.  Besides  having 
the  heaves,  it  bites.  It  nearly  took  his 
four-year-old's  hand  off.  It  is  n't  a  safe 
pony  for  children." 

"  So  I  suppose  he  thought  Mr.  Liviirg- 
stone  would  enjoy  riding  him,"  said  Mrs. 
Livingstone. 

"  There  is  also  another  way  of  looking 
at  it,"  said  Mr.  Colfax,  cheerfully.  "  When 
you  go  in  for  country  life,  you  ought  to 
take  the  bitter  with  the  sweet.  A  bad  pony 
about  the  place  adds  a  spice  to  things." 

"Really?"  said  Mrs.  Livingstone.  She 
was  holding  herself  together  with  deter- 


248  GALLOPS    2 

mination.  The  broken  violet-frames,  the 
ruined  tennis  lawn  were  easier  to  bear  than 
Mrs.  Dashwood. 

"But  which  are  your  things?"  Mrs. 
Innis  asked  of  Mr.  Colfax. 

"  Mine,"  he  answered,  "are  that  superior 
lot  in  the  box-wagon." 

She  beckoned  to  Mr.  Carteret. 

"What  is  in  the  wagon?"  she  asked. 

He  moved  his  horse  to  the  side  of  the 
wagon. 

"There  are  two  sheep,"  he  began. 

"They  have  the  foot-rot,"  said  Mrs. 
Dashwood. 

"Would  you  expect  me  to  draft  the 
sound  ones?"  asked  Mr.  Colfax. 

"  A  coop  of  game  chickens,"  Mr.  Car 
teret  continued. 

"They  won't  stand,"  said  Mr.  Dash- 
wood. 

"  A  broken  harrow,"  Mr.  Carteret  went 
on,  "  the  coyote  that  killed  Mrs.  Carstair's 
peacocks,  and  two  couples  of  beagles  that 
are  down  on  their  feet.  They  also  look  as 
if  they  had  mange." 

"They  have,"  said  Mr.  Colfax. 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'   COUNTRY  LIFE      249 

"  What  is  in  these  sacks  ?  "  inquired  Mr. 
Carteret 

"  Clover-seed,  potatoes,  and  trout  food," 
replied  Mr.  Colfax. 

"The  trout  food,  I  presume,"  said  Mr. 
Carteret,  "  is  three  years  old,  dating  from 
the  time  when  you  were  going  to  stock 
your  pond,  but  left  the  cans  of  young  fish 
at  the  station." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  Mr.  Colfax. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  the  clover- 
seed  and  potatoes  ?  "  Mr.  Carteret  looked 
up  at  the  farmer  on  the  box  as  he  spoke. 

The  old  man  chuckled. 

"  It  hain't  my  business  to  say,  Mr.  Car 
teret,"  he  replied. 

"  This  seems  to  be  all,  Mrs.  Innis,"  said 
Mr.  Carteret. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Innis,  "  if  the  other 
things  are  like  these,  you  all  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  yourselves.  The  idea  of  giving 
a  lot  of  rubbish  to  an  old  friend  who  has 
just  come  here  to  live ! " 

"  Give  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Colfax,  indig 
nantly.  "  Who  said  anything  about  giving 
these  things  ?  " 


250  GALLOPS    2 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  sold  them?  " 
said  Mrs.  Innis. 

"  Well,  it 's  the  same  thing ;  Reggie  won 
them  from  us  at  poker." 

"At  cards?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Living 
stone.  She  looked  at  her  husband  in 
horror. 

"  At  cards  ?  "  repeated  Mrs.  Dashwood, 
with  polite  surprise  in  her  tone.  "  I  think 
we  had  better  be  going."  She  said  this 
to  Mrs.  Innis,  but  Mrs.  Livingstone  heard. 

At  that  moment  the  coyote,  who  had 
been  innocently  gnawing  his  rope,  found 
himself  unattached  and  charged  the  coop 
of  game  chickens.  A  wild  clamor  and 
cackling  ensued.  The  farmer  turned  back 
into  the  wagon  with  his  whip ;  the  coyote 
jumped  out  and  ran  between  the  legs  of 
the  lame  horse.  As  the  horse  winded  the 
wolf,  he  gave  a  snort  and  dashed  across 
the  flower-beds,  leaving  the  groom  on  his 
back  in  a  bed  of  China  asters. 

The  coyote  hurried  off  on  another  line 
through  the  vegetable-garden,  pursued  by 
the  beagles,  which  had  also  escaped  and 
were  yapping  cheerily. 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    251 

"  Keep  them  off  the  flower-beds ! "  called 
Mrs.  Livingstone. 

"  We  '11  have  a  run ! "  cried  Mr.  Colfax. 
"  Tally-ho !  Gone  away ! "  he  bawled,  and 
jumped  on  his  horse. 

Mr.  Dashwood  also  mounted.  "  For 
ward  on ! "  he  yelled,  and  the  two  galloped 
after  the  beagles. 

"  They  Ve  gone  through  the  vege 
tables!"  cried  Mrs.  Livingstone. 

"  They  will  have  a  good  gallop,"  said 
Mr.  Carteret,  wistfully.  "  I  wish  I  was  n't 
on  a  horse  just  off  grass." 

"  But  the  flowers  and  the  vegetables ! " 
wailed  Mrs.  Livingstone. 

"  Never  mind,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Dash- 
wood  ;  "  you  can  get  better  ones  by  ex 
press  from  town.  You  know  I  told  you 
how  it  would  be.  Good-by ;  we  are  going 
to  follow  on  the  road."  She  whipped  up, 
and  went  down  the  drive  at  a  gallop. 

"  Good-by,  dear  !  "  called  back  Mrs. 
Innis. 

The  piebald  pony  had  become  roused 
by  the  excitement  and  began  bucking. 
He  ended,  however,  by  biting  the  stable- 


252  GALLOPS    2 

boy.  The  boy  put  his  hand  to  his  injured 
shoulder,  and  both  pony  and  goat  got 
away. 

"Look!  Look!  The  pony!"  cried 
Mrs.  Livingstone.  "Look!  It  's  in  the 
geraniums!" 

"  Hang  the  geraniums,  and  the  pony 
too!"  said  Mr.  Livingstone. 

"  Don't  say  that!"  cried  his  wife.  "  It 
distresses  me.  Stop  the  pony ! " 

"  I  say,"  called  Mr.  Livingstone,  "  can't 
some  of  you  catch  that  pony  ?  " 

The  stable-boy  started  after  it  through 
the  geraniums,  and  the  pony  fled  to  a  more 
distant  bed  of  asters. 

Mrs.  Livingstone  stood  white  and  rigid 
in  the  doorway,  regarding  these  events. 
Suddenly  she  turned  wildly  upon  Mr.  Car- 
teret. 

"  Take  them  all  away !  You  must  take 
them ! "  she  commanded. 

"Take  what?"  said  Mr.  Carteret, 
startled  by  her  abruptness. 

"All  these  things.  They  are  the  fruits 
of  gambling,  and  they  have  ruined  the 
lawn.'1 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    253 

"  But,  my  dear  Mrs.  Livingstone,"  Mr. 
Carteret  began.  Then  he  stopped.  Hys 
terical  women  disturbed  him,  and  even  the 
remote  possibility  of  possessing  a  horse 
like  that  which  had  broken  loose  made 
matters  worse. 

"  You  must  take  them ! "  she  exclaimed. 
"  They  have  ruined  the  garden ;  they  have 
trampled  on  the  flowers — " 

".But  the  gardeners  in  a  few  days — " 
he  interrupted. 

"  But  we  can't  keep  them,"  she  said 
excitedly.  "Don't  you  see?  You  must 
take  them.  We  have  ideals." 

"  Oh,"  said  Mr.  Carteret,  as  if  that  ex 
plained  matters ;  "  but,  don't  you  see,  I 
can't  take  them :  I  'm  sailing  for  England." 

"  My  dear,"  said  Mr.  Livingstone  to 
his  wife,  "you  are  excited." 

She  gave  him  a  glance,  and  turned  to 
Mr.  Carteret. 

"  If  you  can't  take  them  yourself,  then 
you  must  tell  us  how  to  dispose  of  them ; 
we  are  your  tenants." 

To  Mr.  Carteret  this  was  a  new  re 
quirement  in  a  landlord,  but  he  saw  that  it 


254  GALLOPS    2 

was  useless  to  argue.  An  inspiration  came 
to  him.  "  There  's  the  curate,  you  know, 
in  the  village.  He  's  been  used  all  his  life 
to  having  things  that  other  people  don't 
want,  and  he  's  an  awfully  decent  little 
chap."  He  started  his  horse  down  the 
driveway  and  lifted  his  cap.  "  Good  morn 
ing,"  he  called  back.  "  I  'm  sorry  I  have 
to  hurry  off,  but,  you  see,  I  'm  sailing  soon. 
The  curate  will  be  glad  to  have  the  calf," 
he  added.  He  kicked  his  horse  into  a 
canter  and  fled. 

"Take  all  these  things  to  the  curate," 
said  Mrs.  Livingstone  to  the  men  who 
remained  in  the  line. 

"  But,  Rosina,"  said  Mr.  Livingstone, 
"you  can't  send  this  stuff  without  some 
explanation." 

"  You  may  explain,"  said  Mrs.  Living 
stone,  and  went  into  the  house. 

THAT  afternoon  the  Livingstones'  stable 
men  were  busy  delivering  notes  to  the 
members  of  the  class  which  announced 
that  Mrs.  Livingstone  was  indisposed  and 
would  be  unable  to  have  the  class  on 


THE  LIVINGSTONES'  COUNTRY  LIFE    255 

Wednesday.  The  next  afternoon  she  took 
the  train  for  town  with  Mr.  Livingstone, 
and  it  shortly  became  known  that  they  had 
taken  a  house  in  Boston  for  the  winter. 
The  farm  and  the  building-site  were  offered 
for  sale,  and,  with  Mr.  Carteret's  permis 
sion,  his  house  was  relet  to  some  rich 
people  from  the  West  who  were  anxious 
to  get  into  the  hunting  set. 

"  I  was  afraid  they  would  n't  like  it," 
observed  Mrs.  Innis.  They  were  talking 
the  matter  over  at  tea  on  the  club  veranda. 
"  But  it  is  experiments  like  this  that  keep 
life  interesting,  is  n't  it  ?  "  she  added. 

"  I  'm  rather  sorry  for  Reggie,"  said 
Mrs.  Dashwood. 


Yb  67744 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


